


The Wise God and His Foolish Students

by ProbablyPossesed



Category: God of War (Video Games), RWBY
Genre: (He tells himself as much), Absorption, And ho boy there's a lot of em, And lots of references to Atreus, Badum Chss, Bellona has issues, Bellona is angry, Dad-boy Kratos, Death, Definitely murder, Expulsion of previously Absorbed, Fighting, Goddesses, Gods, Gods are weird, Grimm die a lot, He's trying to be normal, I'm trying, Interdimensional Travel, Jesus christ but there are a lot of dieties, Jokes, Kidnapping, Kratos is a mess, Kratos is bad with feelings, Mentions of Kratos' past, Minor crack here and there, Multi, Mysteries just never end around this poor bastard, Ozpin is a little shit, Petty Squables, Pinky promise, Potentially murder, Probably murder, References to a LOT of things actually, Remnant is a lot like a subway station, Ruby is too good for this world, Salem is no longer the biggest fish in the pond, That makes sense later, Weird rules, and maybe some coffee, but he tries, but not really, lots of issues, really - Freeform, she just needs a hug, so many jokes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21733948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProbablyPossesed/pseuds/ProbablyPossesed
Summary: Kratos had lived too long, in his own humble opinion. He could hardly do a thing without memories slamming him like a freight train. With hope, and any luck, these kids may just make life a bit more...worth living.Or that one where Kratos flips the multiverse a massive bird and decides(Is blackmailed into) becoming a teacher for a large group of teenagers with superpowers. What damage could it *Really* do?
Relationships: Raven Branwen/Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	1. Lost, and not quite found

**Author's Note:**

> This is the updated/slightly rewritten, A03 version of Wise God, originally rewritten on Fanfiction. It will continue to be updated on both. Hope you enjoy :)

Kratos had lived far too long, in his own opinion. 

Despite dying several times, he still drew breath. It irked him. It irked him how, after thousands of years, he had finally realized that no, his body didn't stop aging after a point.

He lost the ability to die. 

It started with small things. Blades bouncing off of his skin. Arrows shattering upon his exposed brow. Poison melting on his tongue and going down quick as a flick without the slightest effect. Ice was suddenly a minor nuisance. Fire licked at his clothes, but not his flesh. Lighting parted around him. The sun warmed but never burned. Lava was thick water. Water was breathable. The earth shattered when he fell, not his bones. Monsters died with an errant twitch. The clouds split when he put his all into a blow. He never starved. He never thirsted. Time left him alone. 

The world changed. 

He did not. 

His little log cabin rotted and broke, so he dutifully replaced the failing timber, planting seeds and watching them grow before his eyes. He used them as a method of telling time, seeing as it had little to no effect on him. 

Mortals dwindled. Monsters returned in en masse, with new breeds to their name. Humanity found the crystallized substance called dust. It was effective, creative, how they used the substance. But humans were always good at creativity. 

Annoyingly so. 

Humans rose again, the blood of other-now dead-races mutating some into what they called 'Faunus.' 

It mattered little. 

He knew they wrote stories when he decided to lend a hand. Knew he was little more than a petty legend, rarely passed around a huntsmans fire, if some knew it. The tales were probably outlandish. Probably called him a hero. Something he wasn't. They probably called him a monster.

Something he was. 

He didn't care. 

The newest breed of monster, the one that dominated the surface of this world he had exiled himself to, called "Grimm," had been smart enough to leave well enough alone, once he had thrown a bit of godly influence at them. They avoided the woods that were his home like the plague. He attributed that partly to the leftover stave left around his property by his son. 

He missed the boy. Missed his wives, and his daughter, and his brother. His many acquaintances. He enjoyed their journeys. He truly did. But most of all did he enjoy his travels with Atreus. His precious son...The boy survived Ragnarok...And many a year after. He was how Kratos learned of death's apparent reluctance of him. While his son grew old and withered over many, many hundreds of years, Kratos did not. He only truly accepted that he was cursed with life after he burned his son's ashes, and carried them to the same peak as his mother after the no-longer-a-boy finally gave in to age. 

His gravestone still rested in beside Feya's in the garden he and the boy first faced a fire troll, after the hunting incident just before Baldur arrived. 

The soft footfalls warned him of something approached his cabin. His ears caught it mere seconds after his instincts did. One became two, then three, then four, then six, then ten. There was no stench of monsters. Humans? The figures that cautiously came around the bend several hundred meters away confirmed that. Kratos didn't care. If they came for shelter, he had it. Food, drink, and a warm fire too. The blond one near the back seemed as though he'd enjoy the flame he was chopping wood for.

Thwaachunk

Another perfect split. If Brok and Sindri could see what he was using the Leviathan axe for...well, Sindri would whine, and Brok would be grumpier than he was usually. 

But there was no need or time for such thoughts. 

Their purposeful strides and the determination of their leader said they were here for him... 

Or his house. 

He'd like to see them take the latter. 

They came to a stop several feet from the gate of the fence he and Atreus had built upon a whim of the boy. He had kept it immaculate and freshly replaced in the boy's memory. They stared silently for a moment as he placed the last chopped pieces into a pile and turned, his eyes scanning the surrounding trees. 

Their leader cleared his throat. 

Kratos ignored him, ambling out the gate and past them to an older tree, reaching the perfect time for cutting. Perhaps it would give him an excuse to ignore the man now speaking aloud in an attempt to get his attention. Kratos again ignored the man, holding up his hand, fingers spread. The Leviathan axe flew from the chopping block, skillfully through the group so nobody was hurt, and landed perfectly in his grip. 

The man who was leading had kindly shut up when the gold-embroidered axe left a small cut in the ends of his scarf, it had come so near to his neck. Kratos pulled back. Swung once, twice, thrice, and the tree fell with a groan. He placed the mighty weapon into its holster upon his back, leaning down and gripping the felled tree. Several of the party scoffed and chuckled when he made to pick it up. 

They fell silent when he effortlessly lifted it with one arm, holding it on his shoulder light as a babe, depositing it in his dug-out trench of 'to get to' Logs. Kratos sighed, long and exasperated. He turned to the staring group. "Yes?" He grunted, crossing his muscular arms across his scarred, broad chest. The man who led stepped forward.

"Greetings," The silver-haired leader, "my name is Ozpin." He said, face carefully blank. "Your legend came to my attention, and I decided to gamble on the reality of it." He said, taking a sip of some liquid from a cup that most certainly was not there before. Kratos was instantaneously suspicious. The man had magic, or a hidden pouch large enough to hold a full, steaming, mug of...something. He somehow doubted the latter.

"What do you want?" Kratos asked, unshifting even as the blond caped woman beside the leader bristled. 'Ozpin' stopped whatever she was attempting to do with a look. She backed down quickly.

'Magic, demands respect, knows what I am, or at least thinks he does...intriguing, yet possibly annoying.' Kratos thought, awaiting an answer even as he took in the party. Ozpin stood at the head, the woman slightly to the left of him was blond, and stern. She bore no weapons but a riding crop. Kratos could tell by looking at her physique that she was no physical fighter. Magic, perhaps? Smart. Bringing two magic users against a powerful/unknown source. 

Useless, perhaps, but smart. 

To the left of the woman were two people he connected as siblings. One male, one female. Both had black hair, pale skin, red eyes, and were confident yet cautious. Warriors, these two. Swordsmen, by the looks of things. Next to them was another woman, this one hidden beneath a white cloak. Her body was inside it, hiding all but her pale face and silver eyes. Concealed weapons? A fast fighter, most likely. Next came a blonde man, he seemed like a hand to hand fighter based on his structure and lack of weaponry. To the leaders right were all males. One stern-looking and bearing a firearm. He reminded the God of a tree, firm, and unshaking. Next was a man who looked much too large to be of any use in combat, despite his cocky stance and axe-gun combination. Beside him was a thin man with green hair, sipping rapidly from a thermos. Next to the drinking man was a Faunus, his tail twitching as he stared unsurely at Kratos' axe. 

A coward.

"I've come to offer you a position," Ozpin said. Kratos was ever stoic, awaiting the man's coming explanation. "I am the headmaster of a school that trains huntsman, and have been seeking you out for a very long time. Seeing as you do indeed exist, I've come to hire you on as a teacher." The old God's eyes roamed the party.

"With an armed escort?" He growled, arms falling to his sides. The party-barring Ozpin-stiffened, recognizing the threat of his position. Good. Maybe this could end without a beating. The infuriating man took a sip calmly, seemingly unaffected.

"They were insurance I would arrive safely. Outside your little forest is as Grimm infested as the rest of our planet." The man said without a flicker of doubt. Kratos called bullshit. The man was strong.

"Do not seek to trick me, wizard, I'm not so foolish as to think a man like yourself would need an armed escort." Kratos snapped, his eyes narrowing minutely. The mortals sought comfort in placing their hands upon whatever they were armed with. Ozpin finally showed emotion, his eyes hardening a slight bit.

"I should be surprised that you know of my magic, but it would be a bit sad if you didn't, Kratos." The mortal even knew him by name. That was a new one. A surprise...and a rather unwelcome one. "After all, what kind of God would you be then, hm?" The rest of the party faltered, looking between Ozpin and himself in disbelief. The Faunus was visibly trembling.

"So...You know who I am." Kratos murmured, eyeing the warlock suspiciously. Ozpin shrugged.

"After being cursed by two of them, I feel I'd remember the presence." The mortals around them stared at Ozpin in open shock. Kratos felt an unwelcome sense of camaraderie with the wizard. If Ozpin noticed, he pretended that he did not. "I feel now would be a good time to-"

"No." Kratos interrupted. The man paused, but to his credit, did not falter.

"Why not?" He asked curiously. Flickers of teaching Atreus both warmed his soul and weighed it heavier.

"They would die regardless." He said, turning back to his home and starting forward.

"So?" The voice made him pause. It had come from the woman in the cloak. "Even if they do die, wouldn't it be better they go out of age, or at least with a fighting chance? If your a God, like Ozpin says, then what can it really hurt? You have the time-" A poor choice of words. "-And the skill. Why not help? I-I, I'd guess that mortals pass like seasons to you, but I…" The woman trailed off. Kratos turned slightly. She was looking at the ground. "I have kids." She said. The memories struck like thunder. "A daughter. And a half daughter." She said. The blonde man and female sibling both placed a hand on her shoulder. The look in their eyes told him of who the half daughter came from. "I love them both deeply. And I would rather die than see anything happen to them." Memories of Freya, the 'witch,' carrying Baldur's corpse. Of her oaths. Of her body bleeding out around his ax, all came to the forefront. His eyes flickered down as well. "Please I...if you're a God, then you could teach them how to defend themselves. You could protect them should something happen to me. Please, I beg of you..." The woman said, breaking from the group and vaulting his fence, running forward and grabbing his pale hand between both of hers. Amber eyes met teary silver. "Please…" She whispered, squeezing his hand. Flashes of his own daughter overwhelmed him. He looked up at the sky quietly, watching the snow begin to fall.

'Feya...Atreus...Lysandra...Calliope...What would you say, if you saw me now?' He wondered for the trillionth time. He sighed, his amber eyes falling first to the woman, then to Ozpin. 'And here I was, calling that Faunus a coward.' 

"You will not order me." He said. "You will not seek to hold anything over me. You will not reveal my status-any of you, and you will allow me to leave whenever I so wish." He said, the woman still gripping his hand standing straighter with every word. "Those are my conditions. Take them or leave them." He said. The woman gasped, and he could feel her smile, despite not seeing it. Ozpin nodded, and said an agreement to the terms, as did the rest. The woman dropped his hand and proceeded to hug him for-what he assumed-all she was worth. He sighed again, allowing it.

And that was how the Greek God of War became the combat instructor and field expert at Beacon Academy.


	2. Slow beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kratos doesn't like talking, but he likes ignorance even less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two, Electric boogaloo.

Kratos would never truly get used to flying, he decided. The world rushing by beneath you, the vertigo of takeoff, the knowledge of his companions dying if it crashed, the annoyance of having to walk home. All of it just made him a tad uncomfortable. He was left alone, however, so he could get used to the feeling. 

Emphasis on was. 

"So...you're a god?" The male sibling-Qrow-asked him from the seat across from Kratos' own.

"Yes." Kratos grunted, adjusting the straps on his knapsack.

"What's it like?" Qrow asked, leaning forward a bit, his red eyes glinting in interest. The rest of the bullhead had quieted a touch, trying to listen in with what they no doubt thought was subtlety.

"Long. Regretful. Boring." Kratos responded, making sure his Vambraces were properly covering the scars from his Blades of Chaos. The mortal warrior nodded almost grimly as if he understood-at least somewhat-how that felt.

"Makes sense..." He murmured, glancing away for a moment. "So," he continued, "got any special abilities?" Kratos paused, taking a moment to consider that as the craft was now entirely silent apart from the engines thrumming outside.

"Define 'special.'" Kratos ordered, shifting a bit in his seat to get more comfortable. The rest of the group was slowly filling in the seats beside Qrow, with one or two placing themselves near him. He got the peculiar feeling this would be the first of many questions.

"Superhuman, incredible, anything an average person can't do without semblances." Kratos couldn't help how his brow raised a small bit.

"Semblance?" He asked. The mortals around him seemed a bit surprised.

"You don't-? Ah, who am I kidding? You probably don't much care for the affairs of mortals, so you didn't look into the sudden abilities springing up?" Qrow guessed, leaning forward more.

"If it does not affect me, I do not care," Kratos said, stoic as a rock. "I simply assumed that it was magic."

"Magic?" Qrow barked, several of the others joining him in his amusement. "Not everybody can use that stuff." The mortal 'informed' grabbing a flask from his side and taking a quick sip.

"Then you do not know magic," Kratos said, crossing his arms. This drew pause from the group. "Anybody can use it, it merely requires the right knowledge," Kratos said, holding out his hand. "Flóga." He said. A small tongue of flame danced between the fingers of his palm. "Págos." The flame stopped and turned to pure ice in the same shape. "Fýsi." The ice turned into green and grew into a small, nondescript plant. "Magic is the energy inside, and out. You are passively covering yourself with magic as we speak. All of you are." He said. The mortals looked shellshocked, to say the least. "Magic is inside all of us. Some have it stronger, others weaker. It is a weapon of the mind." He said, allowing the plant to return to flame, before releasing it in a puff of smoke.

"We always assumed that Aura was of the soul…" The woman who convinced him-Summer-said in disbelief. "But this whole time, we've been placing each other under a permanent spell that is fueled by our own magic!" she said, smiling as she perked up, her silver eyes glinting in awe. Kratos nodded in approval.

"I do not know what barrier spell it is, but I've seen something similar long ago." Kratos murmured, one hand coming up to stroke his beard. "So that is the most likely case." He said.

"Damn…" The female sibling murmured to herself softly. She then turned her gaze to the old God with a calculating expression. "So, how old are you?" She asked. He sighed, looking at the ceiling.

"Last I counted…" He muttered, estimating the time he had spent in his cabin from the amount of tree's he'd seen to fruition. "Somewhere between Five hundred to Five hundred and Fifty thousand years old." He said quietly. It was a rough estimate at best, and even then he only started counting a few hundred years after Atreus' passing. The silence around him was telling. The sound of the Lion Faunus fainting broke the silence. 

It was followed by several chuckles.

The man who Kratos had ironically guessed-Ironwood-spoke up next. "Back to what Qrow was saying. Do you have special abilities, and can they be replicated?" the man received some glares for that question. 

Kratos could not fault him, he was clearly a leader of some description.

"I have many 'abilities.'" Kratos started, slightly enjoying the way they leaned forward. "I know some magic," Atreus, "A bit of runework," Brok and Sindri, "I have reflexes, speed, and strength that none can match," Training and general God of War powers, "I can see great distances and travel between the realms," A parting gift from Mimir, "And can speak any language, including that of animals." A farewell from the world serpent, just before Ragnarok began. After several moments of silence, the fat one-Port-laughed.

"Ha HA! Well, I must say those are some truly impressive claims, my friend!" The boisterous hunter claimed. "Perhaps one day we can test who truly is the better warrior?!" The man exclaimed, looking rather excited. Kratos shrugged noncommittally, the man took it as an agreement, if his laughter could be trusted. The bullhead shook softly.

"We'll be arriving shortly, headmaster." A voice said from the intercom. The pilot, no doubt. The mortals all began to stand and stretch. Ozpin remained seated by Kratos, however.

"It's a bit of a sight, and I think that I shall be your escort." The man said, standing and sipping his mug. Kratos stood alongside him, nodding silently. The craft shook again with a resounding thud. They had arrived. Kratos joined the others in walking down the ramp.

'Decent.' Kratos decided, upon looking at the building. He'd seen better, but the school was impressive in its own right. The four youngest-The siblings, Summer, and the player-walked off heading for a different bullhead. The now awake Faunus made his way towards a slightly larger ship. The babbling duo-Oobleck and Port-headed for the deep campus. The three 'leaders' guided him towards a smaller building that led almost directly into the largest.

"These are the teachers quarters," Ozpin said, leading them inside and turning to the first door. "And this is your office." he continued, opening it and showing a rather basic office. A desk, bookshelf, weapon rack, and filing cabinet. It was bare otherwise. Spartan. 

Kratos felt oddly at home. 

"Your quarters themselves are upstairs," Ozpin said, gesturing to a set of stairs near the side of the room. A brief inspection revealed them as equally average. A king bed, dresser, bathroom, a bath with an odd metal thing above it, closet, and another weapon rack. Kratos found the second one redundant, but most people couldn't summon their weaponry through objects, so he let it slide without a second thought. "Classes begin in two weeks, that should be enough time for you to prepare a lesson plan for where to start with them."

"Hmph." Kratos grunted, "Unless they are restricted to one, uniform style across the school, then I will work on them individually." He said, placing his knapsack on the bed to unpack later. "Is there anything else?" He asked. The three glanced between themselves. Ironwood twitched, and a bullet bounced off of an amber eyeball without marking. Kratos didn't need to ask what that was. His expression spoke a thousand words. Ozpin nodded and Ironwood put his weapon away.

"Just confirming something, it won't happen again." The man said, turning and making his way towards the stairs. "There is a staff meeting tomorrow, Glynda will show you the way." Ozpin said, taking a drink as he vanished downstairs. His companions followed. Kratos wrangled down his annoyance at being shot and prepared to rest a little. After all, he had a long year coming in two weeks.

-One week, five days, 19 hours later-

Kratos sighed, yanking the redheaded crook back into place beside him while the God awaited the police. The girl who reminded him far too much of Summer for there not to be a relation rattled off questions about the Leviathan axe as she zipped around him, marveling at his armor-or lack thereof-as the criminal on his knees muttered curses about teenagers and overpowered huntsmen. Under an hour later, Ozpin stepped out of the interrogation room with a small smile, the newest entry to Beacon right behind him even as Kratos joined them on the way out. She gushed about the God being a teacher and asked for his autograph. Upon being handed a pen and set of headphones, he sighed patiently and drew out his symbol. The Omega. The Red Summer lookalike squealed loudly, sending several people into cringes. Kratos didn't mind too much. He thought of it as an early training method. This girl was coming to Beacon, after all, and he got a terrible feeling she would raise all manner of hell while there.

But he would never regret the choice of coming to this place.


	3. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kratos meets some of the cast, and watches the rest

Kratos was unsure how to approach today. 

He could already see the large, whale-like airships pulling up to the cliff, and the many multi-colored students pouring out like a wave of light. Even from his room, the God could pick out the ones newer to Beacon. Some hid it well. Others didn't. 

He didn't much care, however. 

They could have been here since birth, and it wouldn't have changed his opinion. Said opinion is that they would lose a life or death situation. Almost all of them were blindingly pure. There was nothing wrong with that, but in this profession, sometimes it would come to that. Ozpin had trusted him to handle that, so he would. He did not know exactly how. But he would. 

With a heave, he lifted himself from the windowsill, grabbing his trusted Leviathan as he ambled in the direction of the auditorium. Many of the newer students watched him in awe. The older students in confusion. He allowed their whispers and gazes to wash over him like water. He was unhindered by students, so that was a plus-

BOOSHCKKKKZTTHHUUMM

Kratos sighed. He wished-truly wished that he could have an average first day of ANYTHING in his life. It had been a while without less-than-mature interaction, and his 'Kid skills' were probably still as lacking as they were after Atreus began to walk and talk and Remember things. 

The angry shouting and familiar red hood pulled him in the direction of the explosion. On the approach, whoever was shouting had gotten louder, screeching at the girl from two nights ago.

"Idiot...get us killed...a little young…" Two girls. One of which, he knew. The stranger was...in a word, white. White clothes, white hair, white skin, and a posture that screamed of arrogance. Kratos knew the type. He was once the same. 

Not wishing to dwell on THAT particular train of thought, he came to a halt slightly to the side of and behind the angrier of the pair. The Summer-spawn, whose name he needed to learn, looked up at him and paled a shade. Looking like she wished to be anywhere else. The pretentious girl straightened up, smirking no doubt because she mistook who the fear was for. Kratos cleared his throat. She ignored him. He did it louder. "Hang on!" The brat snapped, not even deigning to look back at him as a third girl entered the fray, looking between himself and the brat with disbelief. Kratos cleared his throat again. "Wha-?!" The brat shouted, pausing when she was met with his chiseled stomach. Her pale blue eyes slowly trailed upwards, meeting his annoyed amber pair. 

If she had any color, it fled her quickly.

"What is going on?" He demanded with a frown, taking minor satisfaction in how all three of them quailed at the growl in his voice.

"U-Um…" The clone started, yelping and shifting away when his eyes landed on her. Kratos motioned for her to continue. She gulped and did so haltingly. "W-Well, um you s-see, I, Uhm, we...er…" Kratos held up a hand for her to stop and looked back to the brat.

"Care to finish?" He asked. She nodded, gulping.

"Y-You see, sir, it was an accident." Kratos nodded in understanding, giving her a bit of confidence as she continued. "I was pushing my luggage inside when she fell onto, spilling dust and almost blowing us off the cliff!" She started strong but quickly fell into acting arrogant and defensive, blaming the red clone. Kratos glanced to the side.

"The cliff." Was his unimpressed grunt. "Which is several hundred feet away." He continued, watching her curl in on herself a tad. "And picked for a huntsmen school. Meaning it is not only strong enough to take that but probably reinforced too." The brat was looking at the ground once more. "Grab your things," Kratos said. "And either leave if you cannot fix that attitude-" He held up a hand to stop her complaints, "-Or learn to act like a huntress, not a child." He finished, turning and making his way towards the auditorium without another word. If the girl thought she could get better, he welcomed her. If not, he couldn't care less. The summer clone zipped up beside him and began to chat amicably about how cool he was and how exciting she thought Beacon would be. He allowed her to ramble, answering when he thought necessary as he felt several people following from a respectful distance. Other students, no doubt. He parted ways with her at the doors when she spotted what was no doubt the other daughter that Summer spoke of, the Half-daughter. Kratos himself went around and onto the stage, waiting in the back for Ozpin. This was his official introduction, after all. After Ozpin's rather brutal and quick speech-which he wholeheartedly approved of-Kratos was called out. 

So out he came.

"And this, my young hopefuls, is your newest teacher, Kratos. He will be in charge of your combat and tactical courses, as well as the man who leads you on live-fire exercises." The bespectacled man explained, gesturing to the pale God. Kratos stepped forward, arms crossed over his chest, amber eyes roaming the students with deliberation.

"I do not know what you've been through before today." He started, feeling they were quiet and intimidated enough by his glare to Actually listen. "I do not know how experienced you are. I do not care. I will hold all of you to the same standard until I divest individual skill sets and styles. Once I do, I will run you into the dirt until you are at a level I feel you should be. Then I will run both you and the rest of the class through the Real training. It will be brutal, bloody, and I do not guarantee your survival. Some of you may run yourselves to exhaustion if you train yourselves outside of my class. You may not wake up if you try such a thing, for I will push you to every limit you can handle. If you cannot follow through, or fear as much, then I suggest you leave now. There is still a docked bullhead outside." Many shuffled in discomfort or fear, but none left. "Good. I will not train cowards." Then he turned and began to walk away. Goodwitch stepped forward to inform the students of their sleeping quarters while himself and Ozpin headed towards the latter's office.

"Tell me," Ozpin mused, "Does the name Salem mean anything to you?"

"No. Why?"

"I see. Would you like to come with me for a drink, then? There's something that you might be interested in hearing..."

-The next day-

Kratos stood beside the rest of Beacon's staff inside of the headmaster's office, watching the window before them, where a series of cameras set through the 'Emerald Forest' were projected. 

Some of his co-workers had actively brought popcorn. 

Kratos huffed, crossing his arms and watching the students beginning to land in view of the recording devices. Throughout the initiation Kratos kept his eyes locked on wherever the fighting was. Memorizing styles and skills that he could glean from the quick spats with low-class Grimm. 

He paused at the sight of a girl in bronze. 

She...well she looked like a female Spartan. And was being chased by a large Scorpion. It had flung her partner to the largest group currently together. Said group was chatting at the Artifact Temple. Something large flew overhead and the Summer clone soon joined them, followed shortly by the Bratty white. The Redheaded spartan came flying through the bramble, monster hot on her tail. The Summer-Spawn charged the scorpion...and almost died because of it, the little fool. 

Kratos was, guiltily, enraptured by the fight against giant bird and giant insect. He applauded the Red cloaked girl mentally when she decapitated the bird, and was outwardly surprised by the quick thinking and strategy of the boy he had-at first-deemed talentless. He...did not expect the groans that soon followed. "Naming time…" Port said with-by some miracle-no enthusiasm. Kratos had a feeling he would dislike this. Ozpin's arrival and explanation soon proved his instincts right for the, what, millionth time, now? Regardless, who named teams after initials?

"Juniper." Kratos said, drawing the eyes of the staff. He pointed to the group with the Spartan girl. "JNPR, Juniper." He explained. His fellows either nodded in agreement or grumbled at the God for 'taking the easiest.' He didn't much mind, however. 

For he was much more interested in the odd feeling that made his spine itch. 

Ozpin drew his and the others' attention as the Naming Ceremony began on the screen. After it ended and the students were sent off for the night, Kratos returned to his room, keeping his axe handy as he laid down. He still couldn't get one thing off of his mind. When he was picking JNPR's name, his spine began to itch, and it hadn't yet stopped.

It only did that when he was being watched.


	4. Lesson number 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kratos starts things with his usual sense of...tact.

Shhhrinnnngggg

"Welcome to combat class."

Shhhrinnnngggg

"You know me from two days ago. If you do not, I don't care. You should have listened."

Shhhrinnnngggg

"We will start with sparring. Anybody who thinks they would be a good first example for the year may step forward now. Be warned, your team will be fighting beside you. If you cannot even attempt to learn their fighting style without being scared to hurt them, stay sitting. If you feel ready, stand." All bodies rose, albeit some hesitantly. Amber eyes looked over each of them...calculating, judging. They shifted under the scrutiny, all but four.

Shhhrinnnngggg-chng…

Kratos put his whetstone away, standing himself from the edge of the arena. He hefted the leviathan over his shoulder, resting it there as he ambled onto the stage. "Team Cardinal," he ordered, "To the stage." Most of the original group sat. Four jogged down the steps. "Ready yourselves, the locker rooms lie beyond those doors." He said, gesturing with his head. The teens filed out to prepare. Kratos turned to the remaining group. "Can anybody tell me why those boys were picked?" He asked. Quiet mumbling filled the room for several moments. Nobody had an answer, for the most part.

"U-Uhm..." A hand slowly drifted upwards. Kratos nodded to the girl raising it. "B-Because of their attitude…?" The half-daughter of Summer, Xiao-long, answered. Well, more asked than answered.

"Correct," Kratos said with an approving nod, sending his students into uncomfortable murmurs. "Confidence is fine. Anger a weapon-IF used correctly. But arrogance...always remind yourselves that arrogance is a slow and insidious killer. But it can end you in a moment's notice just as it can draw your end out. I allowed someone to get away with arrogance unchecked, and it led to many deaths. I and he were almost on that list." Kratos said, allowing the memories to flow for several moments as the message sunk in.

'Father…'

He clamped down on the past ruthlessly. They had better have gotten the message because he was moving swiftly onwards. "I chose them after observation of yesterday, and a small bit today. Do Not allow yourselves to become like them, or you will face what comes next..." Kratos trailed off threateningly. His class shifted uncomfortably in the silence. 

Good. 

Let them build up fear for falling to overconfidence. That might just save their lives in the future. The doors opened once more, the oblivious avian-based team strolled cockily onto the stage again. Kratos turned to face them.

"Sure you'll be alright, prof?" Cardin asked with a smirk, twirling his mace as his team stood together, "We've known each other for years, and probably work together better than the rest of these weaklings!" Cardin taunted, falling into a ready stance. His team followed. Dead silence permeated the air...

...Kratos sheathed his axe and fell into a hand-to-hand stance.

"Begin." He said, ignoring the disbelief on his temporary opponent's faces.

"S-Sir?" The green one-Thrush-asked. Amber orbs locked onto him. He flinched at their intensity and shifted his stance a tad. "Are you sure you'll be able to...ya know...without your…?" The boy trailed off in shock as Kratos pulled the axe out of his sheath and flung it, angling the throw so the blade was sticking it into the floor just outside the arena, haft standing like a proud wooden monument.

"Be ready!" Kratos barked, snapping the teens to attention. "Not all opponents will fight with their best foot forward. They may underestimate you, or may know it was useless on you. Do not see an opponent as weakened because they are disarmed." He growled, sliding forward a pace. The boys slid away on instinct. Their leader realized that he had backed away from a challenge and growled.

"Who cares about that useless crap?!" The mace-wielder shouted, hefting his weapon with surprising skill, just to ruin it by charging recklessly. 

His team followed with equally rushed and uncoordinated charges. So much for that 'teamwork' thing.

Kratos sighed, his eyes drifting closed. When they opened, he Moved. At speeds most wouldn't expect from his frame, the God slammed a fist into the leading teen's stomach. Thrush-like his namesake-flew rather well from the blow. His landing...not so much. The light boy had been flung cleanly from the arena. Everyone paused in surprise, even Kratos.

"...I see." The god murmured, his eyes hardening. "Thrush!" He shouted, catching the dazed boy's attention. "From that one blow, I can tell you've trained for speed over strength. You rely so much on avoiding hits that you can't take them. Yet you still rushed forward ahead of your team." He chastised. "In a fight, you must always assume the enemy is stronger. That they are faster. Smarter. More experienced." He listed with a frown. "Think about that while you watch. You've been removed from the ring." Kratos turned to the other boys, sliding into his stance again. "Go!"

"You bastard!" Cardin shouted, charging again. His compatriots followed, now cautious. Cardin, however, was not. "Die!" The teen shouted, swinging his mace in a horizontal attack meant to remove the teacher's head. 

Kratos slid back, the bladed weapon passing inches before his unimpressed visage. Cardin looked surprised, despite having seen-or rather, not seen-the man move when beating his partner. 

Kratos blurred forward, his fist nailing Cardin squarely in the chest. The teen flinched back, stumbling. Kratos followed, his left leg sweeping the boys from beneath him. Cardin fell with a startled yelp. The gods boot-right this time-shot forward, sending the largest teen into his sword-wielding subordinate. The latter was bowled over, his aura dipping from the blow.

"Cardin! Dove!" Sky shouted, charging forward, halberd at the ready. 

His clumsy stance and unflinching attack line reminded the God of the Alfheim Dark Elves. 

Kratos dodged to the side, grabbing the haft of the weapon and, on instinct, ripped it from Lark's grip with a twirl, planting the blunted end against the boy's stomach and pushing forward, sending the teen sprawling. When he tried to get up, Kratos stabbed the sharper end of the weapon inches from his not-yet-manhood.

"Stay down." In the smartest move his team had yet made, the boy remained still, nodding his agreement. Kratos marched towards the two still up. Both charged back, moving to attack him from both sides. The God grunted, admiring that they had smartened up and tried attacking together this time. 

It would be a useless effort, but the thought was what counted. 

Kratos danced out of the way of Cardin's first strike, deflecting Dove's blade with a well-timed backhand. Said backhand then shot forward, grabbing the smaller boy by the face and chucking him towards his fallen ally. The one outside the ring. The boys collided with a grunt, removing the God's third competitor.

"How are you DOING this?!" Cardin demanded, his mace shaking from the tight grip the distressed boy had on it.

"Because you were arrogant." His pale fist crashed against Cardin's face. "Foolish." An elbow to his armored sternum, metal groaning in stress. "And, worst of all..." A leather boot to the stomach, hard enough to crack the stone beneath them. 

Cardin sailed across the ring, skipping twice before skidding to a halt near the edge. 

Kratos stalked forward in the silence. "You underestimated me." The man said, kneeling beside the scared teen. "Me, who was recruited to teach a combat-oriented class. Two of them. Fix that attitude-that aura of cockiness-and then will I acknowledge you as a huntsman in training. Until that day, you are just a face in my class." The man said, grabbing the teen's hand and dragging him up as he stood. "Get you and your team cleaned up. Be better tomorrow." The boy nodded, him and his team slowly making their way to the locker rooms. Soon after they left-

"That. Was. AWESOME!" Ah, right, there was an audience. Some looked uncomfortable-probably from his brutal words-the rest...well…

"That was incredible!"

"His hand to hand is unreal!"

"I wanna spar next!"

"He fought like a badass!"

"Meh, he shoulda broken their legs." Kratos sighed at the attention. He opened his mouth to address the students...and was saved by the bell.

"That's all for now. I'll see you all at the end of the day. Dismissed." He said, gesturing towards the doors. The teens filed out, chatting amicably about the fight, about himself, and about the classes to come. Once they were gone, Kratos summoned the Leviathan to his waiting hands, putting the blade away with a sigh. He turned towards the exit himself...and paused. Amber eyes flickered towards the locker rooms.

'We should help them! It's the right thing to do!'

'Atreus...You were too pure for this cold, cruel universe of ours.' The god thought, turning towards the lockers with a determined gait. He pushed open the doors silently, watching the bruised teens for a moment as they slipped from their armor, placing their weapons away.

"You fought well, for your age." He said, tactfully ignoring their surprised yelps and stumbling. "Despite being overconfident, I can admit you all were trained well with your weapons...in non-combat situations."

"What are you in here for?" Cardin asked, continuing to change, glaring into space.

"To congratulate you." He said.

"I...What?" Thrush muttered.

"You four were the first fighters of your year," The god explained, "And have set the standard. Not only that, but with the lesson in humility I've taught you, your classmates will be hesitant to look down on you. Lest they want a match of their own. Not only that but you did manage to get me warmed up." The god said with a minuscule amount of humor, rolling his shoulders. "You four were the first humans I've fought in years."

"Holy shit…" Lark whispered, "How much were you holding back?"

Kratos was silent for a long time after that. "...You're still alive…" Was all he said. "Get to class, you battled admirably." he said, turning to the doors and marching out. He ignored the very pleased smirk on Ozpin's face as he passed the headmaster.

-Twelve minutes later-

Tactics class...Kratos had a plan. One. Singular. The proudly trademarked by Everyone plan of 'This-is-all-I've-got-by-God-let-it-work' kind of plan. Even then he had no idea as to how he would go about it. He would need some kind of scale model-

"Ah, there you are," Ozpin said, entering his classroom with several men and women in overalls and work suits. Without a word, the silver-haired teacher gestured to the-rather conspicuous yet somehow missed-hole in Kratos's floor. The people quickly went to work, setting up...something. "We've never had the staff for a tactics teacher," Ozpin explained, "But we've always had the equipment should we get one. I have given it easy instructions. Making anything you so please will be simple should you follow them." The man said.

"...Explain." The god commanded, eyeing the odd device and connecting Boards curiously.

"This," Ozpin said, gesturing, "Is a hologram device. The boards connected control movement and have our entire database of students, and Grimm, on them so that you can run tactical scenarios without needing to be in the field." The man-wizard-headmaster explained, smiling and thanking the now leaving crew. "I've scheduled your class at the end of the day so you can get used to the system." The man said, patting Kratos' shoulder. "Good luck."

And then he was gone, between one blink and the next.

"...Well. Gift horse indeed." Kratos grumbled, stepping up to the biggest hologram keyboard. "Time to learn."

-1:53, same day-

"Hmph, not bad." The god...Complimented? Said. The God Said, stepping away and watching the 'surprise' he had spent an hour crafting in the machine drift into pixels as the system reset. With a sigh, he set up the projector for a new run-through, setting the scene to a flat plateau surrounded by large rock spikes. Branching out in several randomized spots were tree-trunks with glowing red sap sticking out.

"Whoa…" An awed voice whispered behind him. Kratos turned, eyeing the confused/impressed students behind him who were admiring the open room and large, flat 'arena' that was surrounded by panels.

"Welcome. Sit, all of you." He said, gesturing to the chairs connected to every panel. Said chairs were on a track that led a foot or so away from the boards. The students happily filed into the comfortable seats.

"Awesome!" Xiao-Long said, her sibling joining her in testing the controls, chuckling and laughing at the way their avatars popped up, awkwardly-or smoothly, on occasion-following the commands sent to them.

"Congratulations," Kratos mused, "Team RWBY have offered to go first." WB glared at the sheepish RY, but still spawned their avatars. "Good, give yourselves a minute or two to get used to the controls." He said, watching semi-curiously as the girls began to practice by having their models spar against one another.

"Alright," The brat said after a few minutes. "I believe that should be sufficient." she continued, glaring down any opposition from her teammates. With a quiet huff, he spawned his not-so-little surprise. The field rumbled, a large clawed hand reaching up to grab the edge of the arena, pulling its connected body from the void. The nearest students slid back at the sight of the torso-sized, small winged dragon that screeched its arrival into the virtual battleground. Quickly getting the idea, the teens made their smaller selves fall into combat positions, charging forward at the beast.

"Bad Idea." Kratos said, his finger twitching. In response, the dragon lept forward itself, its hand slapping the girls away. RWBY stuttered at the controls, quickly getting their avatars up and ready to go at it again. When Xiao-Long's avatar stood, its hair was on fire. Seeing as her figure's semblance was fully charged, Yang rushed it forward. Kratos put a swift end to that with a powerful swath of lightning from the dragon's mouth.

BRAAAANNNG

Yang had been eliminated.

"What?!" The girl demanded, standing from her station and joining her teammates staring in horror at the blackened, hairless corpse on the field that slowly turned to ash-like pixels, floating away in the wind.

"These simulations are very realistic," Kratos said, sending the dragon into a slow march forward, snapping the remaining RWB figures to attention. Weiss threw her figure forward, having it stab the tip downwards, freezing the great beasts two front feet.

"Ha!" She exclaimed, having her figure turn and jog back to her allies. Partway there, she was snapped up by the large beak of the Drake.

"Never turn your back on the enemy." He tonelessly murmured, uncaring at the way Weiss's figure struggled and screamed as it was tossed up and then swallowed whole. The simulation paused.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Fifty.

Two minutes.

Two fifty.

BRAAAANNG

Mini-Weiss had taken almost three whole minutes to die in there. With an angered growl, the survivors of the team rushed forwards, abusing the Drake's still frozen feet to keep clear of its mouth and pepper its sides with bullet and blade. The great beast struggled, screeching. Eventually, something had to give.

CHRRCKKKK

The Ice went first. With a victorious roar, the beast ripped its one claw free, swiping at Blake. The Faunus' figure lept away, coming to a halt just out of its range. "Blake!" Ruby called to her teammate, "How're you-"

BRAAAANNG

Blake was eliminated. Her figure fell to its knees, blood pouring from its stomach. After a moment of falling, the two bisected halves of the girl finally separated, falling into the dirt with two mistimed, wet, squelches. Ruby could only watch in horror as the dragon devoured the halves as it was programmed to do, blood staining its gargantuan beak on the tip. It's colossal eyes swiveled to Ruby, stalking forward as a confident cat would. Said girl sent her avatar zipping back in a burst of semblance as the Dragon attempted to dispose of her like her sister had been-via swath of lightning.

BLAM-CHRRKK

The lightning had clipped some of the red substance from the roots, making it explode. Ruby starred, the audience starred, Ruby leaned forward in determination. "Alright then." She growled, "Let's play!" She shouted, her figure shooting forward and grabbing some of the sap. Kratos, almost testingly, had the dragon charge up a beam. With a roar of her own, Ruby abused her character's semblance to all but bullet the ball of sap into its mouth.

BLAM-CHRRKK

-Went the sap, sending the dragon into painful screeches as it fell sideways, exposing itself. Ruby shot forward without hesitation, Crescent Rose unfurling as she charged. With a scream of rage, she LEPT upwards, slamming her Scythe's blade into the exposed-and only just now opening-eyeball of the beast.

"Good!" Kratos said, mouth twitching in approval as she flung her character away from the great paw that slammed itself against the Dragons face.

"That's for Yang!" She shouted at the beast, her character watching as it ripped off a part of its face armor with its paw, exposing an odd tube that led down its face. Said tube had a few sparks flying off of it, despite the Dragon not charging up.

Ruby's face glowed in understanding and pride.

With liberal use of her weapon's original purpose, the teen chopped off a world tree root. As in, separated the whole chunk. Pulling out her characters clip and dousing it in the sap that now flowed like her teammate's blood, Ruby slammed the clip in and began to fire at the Dragon who was now desperately trying to free its other foot. Ruby changed her aim, shattering the beasts binds as it reared up to try again, sending it sprawling in confusion.

"This is for Weiss!" She exclaimed, unloading the rest of her sap-powered clip into its remaining eye. As expected, it slammed its paw against the eye, ripping off part of its facial armor, revealing the matching tube from the opposite side. With a growl she darted forward again, leaping up and landing on the center of its beak.

"What are you up to?" Kratos asked, his arms crossed over his chest, long having allowed the A.I. to control the beast.

"None of your business!" She said, sprinting down its back as it ripped free the center of its beak in an attempt to hurt her. With a grin she snatched some sap from a root behind it, throwing it up into the angered beast's maw, watching it stick there. With a grin, she darted back to the opposite side of the arena. "Over here you lug!" She shouted at the mostly blinded drake, her cloak billowing in the wind. The dragon roared right back, rearing up as its chest glowed-

BLAM-CHRRKK

And the sap she planted exploded, sending the dragon into a whimpering mess on its side. "That was for Blake!" She said, grabbing the log she cut off earlier, stomping on the harder parts of sap, ripping it free with a small laugh. With a burst of Rose-petaled speed, she flew forward, jumping like an Olympic specialist.

"AND THIS IS FOR MEEEEEE!" She shouted as she slammed the root into the exposed nexus of lighting-passages no longer hidden within the beak, smirking as its body began to detonate and spark and thrash all over. She lept back but was smacked by its whipping tail, crashing painfully into the arena wall.

TTTRRRRIIIIINNNNNNGGGGG

Went the machine as the Dragons body gave one last death throe, exploding into green pixels.

"Yeah!"

"Whoo!"

"That was BADAAAASSSS!"

Her classmates shouted standing and clapping at the being-smothered Ruby. After giving them a minute to celebrate, he silenced them by zooming in on Ruby's character. It's previously hidden health bar displayed a vibrant red with barely anything left, a status effect called 'CONCUSSION' hovering nearby. Three spots in each of her arms and at least one in her legs were broken from the landing.

"Barely alive and a target for the Grimm." He said.

The image switched to a group of floating pixels. "Unrecoverable and unidentifiable." He said to what was clearly the only remains of Yang.

It switched to a figure in white, seeming pressed up against two invisible walls. Her bones were half exposed and the rest of her partly melted. "Eaten and suffocated."

It showed the remains of blake, her head pressed awkwardly against her thighs as most of her body was dissolved on both halves. "Bisected and devoured." He said, switching the machine to a blank, white field with all four bodies lined up. "Can someone tell me where they thought that-" He said, gesturing to the stomach-wrenching sight, "Was a victory?"

"But she killed that thing!" Xiao-Long defended hotly.

"At the cost of all her teammate's lives, and her limbs. If she wasn't recovered in under...ten minutes, she would be dead from the Grimm." He said, allowing the system to play out a pack of Beowulf's finding and tearing into the defenseless Ruby.

The bell rang as Ruby whispered a- "What did we do wrong…?"

"You acted alone, you felt safe, you were-at first-arrogant." He said. The girls flinched, remembering his earlier lesson and shivering at its very literal implications before them as Ruby's character-who was now depleted of health-was quietly being snacked on by the Grimm around her. "Be prepared tomorrow, the rest of you. RWBY, you are given a bye until every team has gone through their rotation." He explained ushering the multi-year class out. 

With a sigh he shut off the machine, trying his best to ignore the enraged, emerald eyes that glared at him from the back of his room. He knew they would watch him. Knew he would be monitored for the student's safety. But even still…

...He didn't care if they judged.


	5. Of...'heartfelt'...reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kratos meets an old...friend. And shit goes about as normally as it usually does with him, the poor bastard.

Kratos felt that maybe, just maybe, he should feel something more than...well, he actually had no thoughts on his current predicament. And that was the issue. Even though he didn't even physically feel the teeth, he should have at least been annoyed by the Beowulf gnawing on his face.

"Graaaah...fhraackk.." The beast grunt and growled, no doubt angrier than normal because the not-human before it was immune to it's normally impressive bite force. Kratos decided to ease the creature of Grimm's suffering by slamming his fist through its chest at Mach 3, blasting it into a fine paste before it could feel the hit. His beard ruffled in the ensuing shockwave, and a ripped off leaf smacked into his forehead as if to avenge the tree it had come from...which was now uprooted alongside a great many of its brethren in the area.

"Are we sure this is the right place?" he asked into an earpiece, impressed the flimsy-looking device had withstood the Beowulf's jaw.

"A moment!" Ozpin responded, speaking louder than normal. "Just, recovering my ears is all!" He not-shouted, sounding strained. Kratos almost felt pity for the wizard. 

Almost.

"What you seek will bring no benefit..." Kratos grumbled, almost like a warning, yet still continuing on through the forest towards his goal with a single-minded intensity that only a Spartan-like himself-could bring to bear.

"I do not 'seek benefit' from it," Ozpin said, sounding much more relaxed. The warlock had probably abused what remained of his magic to return his ears. Cheeky, but practical. "I want you to destroy that lab-if it has what I think it does-and remove a possible weapon from Salem."

"I see." Kratos drawled, back-handing a leaping Ursa into-and through-a tree with casual ease. "That and I'm away from the school, which gets your secretary off of your back about me for a while." he guessed. The audible flinch on the other end of the receiver answered his question.

"I apologize for Glynda's behavior," Ozpin said, "I hope to keep the students innocent for their first year or so, but I am not so stuck to that thought process to ignore the benefits of your...lessons." The younger man said, probably trying to ignore the sounds of Kratos walking through-yes, through-a King Taijitu as if it were a gentle breeze, his hand ripping any annoyances from his path. Said annoyances mostly consisted of bone and organs.

"It is fine." The god said, ignoring the shrieking Deathstalker whose stinger had shattered upon impact with his shoulder.

"Is...everything alright?" Ozpin asked, sounding concerned.

"Out here, I need not be so gentle as I am around mortals," Kratos informed, headbutting a screaming, leaping Creep and wiping some of its steaming blood from his nose. "I live in a world with the same resistance as sand. One over-strengthened poke, and..." Even though he was away from all vision, Kratos took the time to poke a charging pack of Boarbatusks...and watching them blast into tiny dust particles. "Death." He finished, somber as the trail of evaporating corpses behind him.

"That must be...difficult." Ozpin murmured, sounding empathetic, yet uncomprehending of how truly lonely that must be. Kratos grunted noncommittally as a hail of bullets bounced off of his back. "Was that gunfire?!" Ozpin demanded, sounding alarmed.

"I'll handle it, give me a moment." Kratos said, disconnecting his earpiece and storing it away, turning to face the group of four behind him.

"You idiot!" One of the females-black hair, pale, eyes not unlike his own-shouted at her compatriot. Something about her was eerily familiar.

"What?! I saw the chance, so I said hello!" The male she had spoken to-Brown hair, pale, lithe yet Kratos recognized the muscle-responded. Kratos assumed the clearly unhinged man had shot him.

"Oh great, now he knows we're here." The other male said-silver hair, pale as well, legs inhuman to the god's sensitive ears-with a huff. "I thought you were the 'senior assassin' around?" The boy teased.

"Shut up, Merc." The final girl said-green haired, dark-skinned, seems strained-with a growl. "He doesn't know where we are!" She stated cockily. To prove that fact wrong, Kratos darted forward at high speed. The oldest two-and first speakers-lept back, but the youngest were caught off guard when pale hands wrapped around their faces, lifting them up and squeezing until they could hardly think.

"Mercury, Emerald!" The nostalgia-inducing woman exclaimed, sounding half disappointed, half worried. Kratos was never much for talk, so he slammed the youngest together, dropping their unconscious forms. Without warning, he moved again, fist missing the male of the duo by centimeters. So Kratos went for a haymaker. It also missed. He swung his left hand around in a sweep. The slippery man ducked. The god's foot lashed out, finally catching the now gagging man and sending him skipping across the field.

"Damnit! How fast are you?!" The by-him-why-wouldn't-he-just-make-the-damn-connection woman demanded, throwing a torso-sized fireball at the ancient warrior. Said warrior took the blast, using the ensuing smoke to launch forward, his fist cocked back to lay the woman out. He was within inches of connecting that hit when a chitinous tail wrapped around his midsection, yanking him back for a few precious seconds and allowing the woman to dodge his suddenly much slower move.

"Gotcha!" The quick man shouted, his tail scraping across Kratos' midsection as the man leaped forward, wrist-blades aimed for the god's eyes. Kratos ducked, his fist lashing out to catch the shocked Faunus's sternum, halting his momentum. With a grunt, Kratos abused his targets exposure to the air, lashing out again, and again, and again against the man's ribs until his body shimmered, and something cracked. "AHHHHHH!" The surprised mortal screamed, his body ragdolling into the waiting arms of his only standing opponent. Said opponent steadied her ally and passed him one of the knocked out younglings.

"No you don't!" Kratos exclaimed, recognizing the escape attempt and shooting forward. He was met with a wall of fire. This fire, however, was different from before. There was power laced into it. Of the God kind. Not wanting his clothes to burn off, he lept back, sweeping an arm to disperse the flames. When the ash settled, only he stood within the clearing. Huffing in minor displeasure, he replaced his earpiece, flipping it on-

"Who were they, what did they look like, and are you okay?!" Ozpin demanded, sounding tense.

"I don't know, like ragtag criminals, and yes." Kratos drawled calmly, continuing on his way from the minorly charred clearing towards the ravine ahead. Upon reaching said ravine, he peered over the edge, spotting the target base. Out of said base walked a thickly mustached man, talking into a scroll.

"No...failure...incompatible...only con's...of course...at once...my lady." Drifted up to the god's ears.

'Must be further then it looks, if I'm having trouble hearing it.' Kratos mused. With a huff, he prepared himself.

-With Watts-

Watts ended the call with his annoyed yet surprisingly calm queen, moving to put his scroll away and continue on his day...for all of three feet before his scroll began to ring again. Pulling it out, he was surprised to find Cinder calling. "Wha-?" was all he got before-

"You need to get out of there! A huntsman is here! He's too strong for me and Tyrian, run!" she exclaimed. Watts had an analytical mind by nature, and he knew the base had one entrance, so on instinct, he looked up.

And was met with a boar-hide boot to the mouth.

-With Kratos-

Kratos felt the smallest, most bare inklings of humor when the mortal looked horrified before foot met face, with the latter giving in. Stepping off of the stunned and possibly dead mortal, Kratos marched into the abandoned research base.

Within ten seconds he saw what the man outside meant by 'failures.'

The place was full of Grimm. Not average ones, no-no. These ones had modifications. It was clear some idiot thought it smart to try and change the Grimm, weaponizing and possibly even controlling them, the moron.

"It's as thought. A Grimm operations lab." Kratos informed Ozpin, pointedly ignoring the man's sad sigh and muttered cursings as he began to tear into the deformed, angered monsters.

"Thank you for the assistance, Kratos." Ozpin said almost an hour later, watching through the God's Scroll camera as the ravine was filled with smoke and fire, and the lab collapsed. Switching off the feed, Kratos grunted in acknowledgment, turning and making his way to the Safe Zone his pilot waited at. As he headed for 'extraction,' Kratos mused on the failed creations in the now trashed labs. Some reminded him of the demons that Hel made to torture villainous souls.

'Hel…' Kratos thought to himself, slowing a bit in his pace. 'How long has it been since I met with you...or with Jörmungandr…or tended Sleipnir, Fenrir and Atreus' graves...' Kratos knew that with every name he slowed until, finally, he stopped completely. Reaching deep into his pouch, Kratos pulled out an old, familiar object. An arrow, tipped in folded steel, rune's scrawling along its sides. Dangling from its haft was a series of small stones. Each had an inscribed animal and name. Kratos held the memorabilia close, gentle with his grip on it in a way he often wasn't.

And then he was airborne.

A loud, thrumming explosion echoed his flight. Kratos blinked and placed the arrow back into its safe, set aside portion in his pouch moments before he collided with the fist of a very angry-looking woman. Despite being blasted towards the ground by said fist, he landed upright, turning to face the woman who had landed just behind him.

"Bellona." He greeted, eerily calm, taking in the fuming goddess.

"You bastard!" she shouted, shaking in her rage. "You deny me training when I came asking Eons ago, but accept the offer to train mortals?!" she demanded, the ground around her cracking from the pressure of her rippling aura.

"You did not ask for training." Kratos drawled, unintimidated. "You demanded my power." he stated, almost carelessly. Bellona flinched, her aura dimming a bit.

"A-Alright so I worded the question pretty fuckin poorly, but still!" She rebuked, her Amber eyes meeting his own, matching set.

"Even if I accepted today, you'd need to sit in with 'the mortals.'" Kratos said.

"You're telling me those kids are worth more than me?!" She demanded, a large blade forming in her hand. Kratos remained unflinching when said blade was pointed at him. "Are you mad?!" She demanded, taking a half-pace forward, "I'm your blood! I deserve your training more than those...those fleeting children!" She exclaimed, the trees closest to her withering a bit from her now flaming body.

"So you're saying they do not deserve the right to survive?" Kratos asked. Bellona paused, and Kratos scoffed. "There is more to Godhood than 'deserving' something. Be it training, worship, or anything else. You will earn the right to demand anything of anyone when you understand that." He said, turning and making his way back towards where he was originally headed.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" Bellona screamed, leaping forward and aiming to relieve the older God of his head. Kratos whipped around, his fingers catching the blade, and his forehead meeting the Goddesses. The world around them shook from the sudden outpouring of energy from two War Gods.

"Stand down!" Kratos ordered, glowering at Bellona from their centimeters of distance. She leaned forward, pushing against the pale warriors head.

"Fight me and I'll think about it!" She responded, cocking her free hand back and launching it forward. Kratos met the blow with his own, unblinking even as the ground between them shattered and began to shift around as it had with his and Baldur's first confrontation.

"I've ended Gods stronger than you, Bellona!" He growled, fingers tightening on the blade to the point it began to bend a bit from the pressure. "I don't want to add any more to that list, but I'm not against it!" He said, his fist lashing out and meeting hers again. Bellona hesitated for a moment at that, and it was all Kratos needed to lash out again, his foot meeting her stomach and blasting her into the distance.

"This wouldn't have happened if you just listened to me, old man!" She shouted, shooting into sight at bullet-speeds, her blade slamming against the male of the two's hastily-deployed shield. Said connection caused a shockwave that turned the once forested area into charred, unstable flatlands for several hundred meters.

"And if you listened to ANYONE it wouldn't have happened either!" Kratos responded, pushing Bellona off with a grunt, his shield closing as he darted forward, scoring a quick, yet only grazing, blow on the female warriors face. In response she lashed out with the blade again, to which Kratos dodged backward, flowing forward milliseconds later as his elbow connected with hers, both pushing into the lock unflinchingly.

"Damnit, old man! Just train me before I get serious!" Bellona ordered, sounding confident even as she began to slide back from the force Kratos was putting into their 'stalemate.'

"I told you! I will! But you'll need to join in with the mortals!" Kratos growled, shoving the younger warrior back and launching after her, grabbing her blade by the part of the hilt she wasn't holding and flinging it away. Not allowing her the chance to recover, he stopped holding back as much for a moment, pummeling the stunned Goddess with four punches to her ribs, stomach, sternum, and jaw-in that order-before she finally caught up and began to barely deflect punch after punch, kick after kick, elbow after knee, in an unending barrage of melee attacks. Despite blocking, deflecting, or dodging the many blows, several slipped through her guard. In under a minute her arms and legs were bruised beyond use, and her torso was so damaged she wouldn't be able to go shirtless for a while, lest people notice the bandages.

"Fine!" She said, throwing her hands up and flinching at the fist that halted within a hair's breadth of her nose. "I give!" She surrendered, sighing in relief when Kratos stepped back. With a groan, Bellona fell to her knees, nursing her wounds and panting for breath. "Hot damn old man, what do you do all day, train?" She asked, fluctuating her powers to speed up the healing process, one bruise at a time.

"Yes." Kratos responded bluntly. There hadn't been much else to do over the millennia.

Bellona blinked, not knowing how to respond to that. Kratos turned, ambling to the smaller warriors blade and tossing it back to her. She caught it, wincing when it fell from her grip a moment later, her injured fingers disliking the weight. He continued on his path towards his lift.

"Wait!" Bellona shouted, dissolving her blade and standing up, jog-limping forward to catch up to Kratos. Kratos slowed a bit, turning and raising a skeptical brow. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Mighty Bellona learning with mortals. Who cares, right? You learned with Mortals, way back when." She defended, trying not to frown at her loss.

"I trained with Spartans," Kratos said, drawing one of her arms over his shoulder, continuing on his way despite Bellona's surprise and whining about not needing help. "The only thing mortal about them was their flesh." Kratos half-joked, his mouth quirking the tiniest bit. Bellona was less reserved, breaking out into quiet laughter.

"So...how've ya been?" Bellona eventually asked, far too late, but it was thought that counted...maybe.

-Several hours later-

"So that's your mission report?" Ozpin asked, eyeing the woman before him curiously. He couldn't help but notice her similar features to Kratos. Mainly her eyes.

"Yes." Kratos said, recapturing the wizard's attention.

"You left the objective."

"Yes."

"Got attacked."

"Correct."

"Fought with your...new assistant…" Ozpin said, wondering to himself as to why he was allowing said 'assistant' to join their staff at a moment's notice. He then remembered just What they were and wasn't eager to stop them.

"Like I said."

"...Is this going to become a regular occurrence?" Ozpin asked, glancing between the two. The new one, Bellona, scoffed.

"Lots of us, from a couple of pantheons, drop by to ask him for advice or for...other things." She said, eyes flickering to the unapologetic, pale God.

"I see…" Ozpin murmured, resigned. "I'll make preparations for any...surprise guests." He said, dismissing the two with a wave.

-Later, in Kratos' classroom-

"Soooooooo…" Bellona drawled from her position at the hologram table, spinning a bit in the chairs semi-limited movement capabilities. "You never did explain as to why you seem so...adamant, about training these kids…?" She asked, letting the question hang as Kratos prepared for the final class of the day. Said teacher sighed quietly.

"Call it redemption, and leave it at that." He said, trying to brainstorm a good opponent for the next group to face the trials of his...well, tactical trials.

"...Did you get guilt-tripped by your memories?" Bellona teased, smiling at the older deity's lack of response and reptilian stillness. "You did!" She exclaimed, falling into barks of laughter at the thought. In response, Kratos growled.

"Do you wish to handle the paperwork for a week, assistant?" He shamelessly threatened, smirking the smallest bit at the way Bellona all-but-fell from her chair in her speed to throw her hands forward, physically matching her exclamation of 'I'm good!' by shaking said hands rapidly in front of her.

"Sheesh, just kill all the fun…" She grumbled, crossing her arms over her decent bust and glaring at nothing in particular. "Put all the fun in camps, why don't you?" She growled, refusing to respond to the blank, unimpressed stare of her elder. Kratos glanced at the clock, eloquently deciding 'fuck it' and quickly inputting the proper commands for his plan.

"Remember that-"

"I cannot refer to the children as mortals or insult them unless they do something truly stupid, I know." Bellona murmured petulantly, moving up from the chair whichever-student-used she had been occupying, ambling towards the Spartans desk, hopping up onto said desk and leaning back, her legs crossed elegantly even as she leaned on her not-so-elegantly-positioned arms. 

Her top half was relaxed, and her lower half quite proper. 

Bellona was weird like that

"Just observe after I introduce you," Kratos ordered, standing from his desk and moving to stand before his spot at the projector table. A few moments later, the students began to trickle in, greeting Kratos and looking curiously-or in a few cases, jealously-at Bellona as they took their seats. "Welcome back." He said. "For any of you who worry, today shall be much less intense then team RWBY's stint." Kratos calmly explained.

It was, of course, that moment the window was blasted inwards, and a pink, brown, and white blur shot toward Kratos like a missile.


	6. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kratos really doesn't want to deal with this shit, but as always, the shit wants to deal with him

Kratos sighed to himself. This was so very typical.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?!" Seemed to be the unanimous thoughts of the class, though it was a little hard to tell with the screech in his ear via a startled Bellona. Said 'thing' was nuzzling against his side, probably looking for pets. It also probably wouldn't relinquish the two scrolls in its mouth without them, if it was the one he remembered. 

"Wait...are those…" Bellona whispered, Amber eyes wide and a small bit panicked.

"Something we will handle later. Take it to my office. Feed it, pet it, you know the drill." He growled, gently pushing the beastie away so it was left to Bellona. Said Goddess was equally gentle in the way she guided the skinless, eagle-winged, white-eared dog-monster off towards the door. A few moments after the two vanished, he turned back to the stunned and-as he was impressed to note-defensive students. "As I said, today shall be less intense than our last class."

"What are we doing today, professor?" A female student said. A quick moment to put the name to a face gave him just the slightest twitch in his right eye. How the hell someone got the name of Valkyrie in this realm he didn't want to know.

"We will not be doing simulations." He said, uncaring of the many disappointed groans. "You will be called upon, one by one, to come up with a strategy to defeat one of the professors in this building from what you know of their abilities."

"Wait...for real?" The Blond teammate of Valkyrie, Arc, asked, clearly a small bit panicked at the idea.

"Yes." Kratos said, turning his full attention on the...oddly scrawny teen. Huh. He'd only seen a body that scrawny just before he-

'Guess this is it, huh, brother?'

'Mimir...No!'

His hand curled into a fist behind him, but he didn't show his feelings otherwise. "You'll be going first. Professor and strategy. Your only resources are yourself and your team. Go!" Kratos ordered.

"U-Uhm…" The boy stuttered, blinking in surprise and worrying his lip for a moment. Just a moment, before his eyes, lit up and he looked back to the pale being. "Miss Goodwitch!" He exclaimed aloud, looking excited. Team Cardinal and Xiao-Long snickered, but Kratos paid them no heed.

"And your strategy?" The god-of-too-much-shit asked, bringing his arms around front to cross them in front of his chest. The boy shifted forward in his seat leaning towards the table in his slight exuberance.

"Well, from what I've seen of her tasks here at school, and heard of her fighting from Ruby, she relies mainly on her telekinetic semblance and some applications of dust mixed in." He explained, grinning ear to ear.

"Which means she probably isn't used to or is unaccustomed to two things; close-range fighting and stealth. After all, she's been a teacher for, what, at least five years now with how young she is, and how good at teaching she is, right? Meaning she probably hasn't been out in the field often. And even before that, I'm willing to bet she took mainly front combat and extermination missions, yeah? So if we could get the drop on her, or if one of us could pick off at her aura from afar while the rest of us got in her face with melee combat, we could surely do it!" he exclaimed, eyes shining proudly. The rest of the room, even the usually dismissive Cardinal, was murmuring or openly thinking about the ways that, yeah, such a strategy could indeed work. Kratos, for the first time, smiled the slightest bit at one of his students in Beacon.

"Very good," he said, nodding in approval. "Such a strategy could work. Now then, seeing as I sincerely doubt any of you could come up with something for the other professors, I want you to, all of you as a class-sized group, come up with a way to defeat myself. You have ten minutes." He said, ambling away from the group-who had all slid up to the table and began to speak in harsh whispers-as he pulled out his scroll, patiently waiting. After about four minutes, it rang, and he picked up. "Well?" He asked quietly.

"A council has been called." Bellona's voice returned.

"Of course…" He drawled, free hand massaging his brow. "Who has been summoned?"

"Everyone." She said. He froze, eyes snapping to the blank image of her number.

"What happened?" He demanded, voice rising the slightest bit in worry.

"According to these?" The sound of ruffling parchment and clinking gold. "Kids."

"Kids?" He drawled, disbelieving.

"Apparently, lots of them. And you probably will be displeased to hear it, but at least 90% of this new demi-god string is here. In this realm." She said, slow and quiet, as if afraid. She was kind of right to be, based on the nigh ice-like rage that burned in the older deities' eyes.

"Fool's can't keep it in their 'holier-than-though' pants…" He growled, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose with enough force to bend steel. "How many?" He asked.

"Almost ninety new half-bloods." She said.

"We'll need to make a camp at this point." He groused

"What? Like a half-god camp?" She joked heartily.

"We've done worse."

"Actually, that's not a bad idea. We could even separate them into, like, cabins based on the parent or something. Ooh, or we could base it after Rome! Though, that begs the question, would different pantheons need different camps-?"

"Bellona." He cut in, voice dry enough to kill an ocean.

"Right, sorry, a weird urge came over me." She said, sounding hesitantly confused.

"I care not for your urges. Whose are they?" He asked.

"Who, the kids? Well, that's the kicker. Pretty much everyone on the council had one. Even if they haven't had sex in millennia. There would be more, but some got themselves killed, or were murdered by other deities who came upon them without realizing what they were." She explained, intrigued. Kratos just sighed. He opened his mouth to speak when-"Even you're rumored to have one, ya sly old dog." She teased. His scroll began to crack from the pressure of his grip.

"What?!" It wasn't as though he'd roared the question, or even said it above much of a whisper, but the sheer rage he kicked off all-but murdered the conversation behind him. "Explain." He barked.

"Geez man, it just gave a list of speculations on there about the magical signature of one being close to Lok-"

"We will finish this, at…" He glanced back at the silent room watching him. "At another time. I need to finish the class," he said, hanging up before she could say much else, turning back to the teens with a schooled, calm expression. "What is your strategy?" He asked, stalking back to his spot at the 'head' of the table.

"Well…" Rose began.

"We were gonna drop a building on you!" Cardin suddenly blurted out, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but in the room. Most of said room snickered, but Belladonna saved him after a quick eye-roll.

"We heard rumors of your semblance giving you almost…" Her eyes flew to the scars on his arms and the one that looked as though he had been raped via pike in the chest before returning to his unphased orbs. "Almost Impenetrable skin. So, we figured blunt force would do it. But we assumed none of us could pull that kind of damage off, so we came up with a plan where everyone below a certain strength or melee skill level would stay back and hammer you with bullets while the close-range fighters pushed you into a building or under a cliff face, where we would wait for your aura to eventually fade before collapsing the structure atop you to finish the fight." she explained, leaning back in her chair as the room nodded.

"A decent plan...but what If I target Nora? The only person with explosives that could collapse a building that quick?" He asked. They paused, a few humming, but before they could answer, the bell rang. "Dismissed." he ordered. Feeling the lingered remains of his anger, they scampered off. Growling to himself, he stormed off towards his office, uncaring for the students that parted like a stream around him. After finally, finally reaching the damnable place, he plowed through the door, the wooden Privacy Device slamming against the wall behind it as he stalked deeper into the office. Bellona, having heard him-or sensed him-was already downstairs and tossed the scroll marked with an Omega.

"It's this Saturday," she said, prying the door from the wall and closing it gently. "Noon is 'roughly' when we should arrive." She groused, fingering the new hole.

"So tomorrow at noon. Short notice." He grunted out, eyes flying across the scroll which was written in ancient Greek script. Bellona paused at that, blinking.

"Huh...time flies. Also yeah, that's Really fuckin short notice…" She murmured, reading the scroll again over his shoulder, albeit with some difficulty.

"We'll start the trip. Now." He said, snapping the scroll closed and summoning his favored weapon without hesitation, grabbing some supplies and sending a quick message to Ozpin about a training trip out to the wilds for a few days. A few moments-and one suited up Bellona-later, and Kratos opened the door, hardly stopping to acknowledge the coffee-sipping wizard that followed him.

"So I presume this is important if you cannot even spare your assistant?" he asked, keeping in step with the marching Deity.

"Above your pay grade, ability, and knowledge of the universe." Kratos deadpanned, moving swiftly towards the Beacon Cliff.

"Ah. Godly emergency it is." The warlock said, taking a long sip as he followed.

"That may be putting it lightly," Bellona said, fingering her blade. "Like, a possible War in the Heavens, emergency."

"That sounds unpleasant." Ozpin drawled, brow furrowing.

"The last time it happened, half the Hindu Pantheon bit it, and they took about Fifteen Egyptian lords with 'em." Bellona explained.

"That sounds...bad," Ozpin said. "So is this some kind of war between Gods I may need to worry about?" He asked.

"Its usually one or two." Kratos cut in, slowly beginning to speed up now that the cliff was in sight, "The 'last time' ended with me being the one who exterminated both sides to stop the suffering the war caused." He said, breaking into a sprint, Bellona right beside him.

"Later Wizard Headmaster!" Bellona called back with a wave, leaping off the cliff in time with Kratos...and being swept up in the beam of light that came from somewhere beneath them, vanishing a mere moment later.

"Well...I'll just call James, then."

-MEANWHILE! In the inter-realms-

Kratos and Bellona 'floated' next to each other, flying through the Bifrost with incredible speed. "How DID they manage to get the Bifrost to operate outside of the Nine Realms?" Bellona suddenly asked, looking towards the older.

"Atreus, Mimir, Hel, and Jormungander helped to extend its reach beyond the world tree with magic and giant engineering." The pale god explained, arms crossed and kind of...relaxed in the subspace travel.

"Okay, fair, but how?!" She exclaimed, waving her arms frustratedly. He shrugged.

"They didn't explain it to me beyond that. All I know is it's faster than everyone else's methods." He half-boasted, proud of his families-and one friend-addition to the wondrous creation.

"Yet you won't share it with most of the Pantheons." She drawled, nodding sarcastically. He shrugged.

"Much like you, they demanded it. Not asked." He said carelessly, suddenly changing position and bracing himself.

"What are you-?"

-The realm of the Council, a few moments earlier-

She was rather enjoying the environment of the god's meeting place. Gaudy though the gold and marble everything may be, it was still a rather happy place. The lucky mortals who had no affiliation to any deity came to this place, able to live out eternity in happiness in a rather fancy realm, medieval though it may be. Was it a way of the God's shoving it in their faces that they were wrong by making any form of official meeting happen in said realm? 

Who's to say. 

Regardless, it probably wouldn't be peaceful when-

A large, multicolored beam slammed into the cleared area of the square behind her, making many soul-folk jump in surprise.

"And there it is." She murmured, setting down the fire iron carefully and strolling away from her godhood's namesake, moving along into the street with a soft smile, stepping out semi-cautiously in time with the two latest arrivals. "Hello again, Nephew." She murmured, keeping pace. His Amber eyes slid to her and she couldn't help the shiver that came over her at the frustration, the anger in those normally cold orbs.

"Hestia." He responded, short and regretful as always. The trio continued towards the large, coliseum-like structure at the city center.

'Heh. It's a Coliseum. I just noticed, but that's quite fitting.' she mused humorously, smirking at the irony of Deity politics. With another ten minutes of walking, the trio arrived at the soon-to-be-packed building, sliding through a large set of 'doors' that were in actuality just purple curtains. After a few scant moments in darkness, they reemerged into the light.

And then Kratos took a dainty boot to the Jaw.

-With Kratos, same time-

He deserved that.

A punch to the gut, slightly bending him.

He also deserved that. He did not deserve the rant he would get if the sword currently being swung towards his head broke against his skin, so he caught it.

"Rat bastard!" The-quite literally-enflamed woman before him shouted, pushing her blade of incredibly heat-resistant metal deeper into the palm of his hand.

"Sol." He drawled in return, pushing the sword away.

"You had the balls, the balls, to go into hiding for Seven centuries?!" she roared, orange eyes glowing yellow like lava at the bottom of her eyelids. "And you didn't bring me with you?!" She demanded, flames rippling in agitation. From behind the living incarnation of a sun stepped a woman who, to this day, Kratos couldn't forget.

"Aphrodite." He drawled quietly, not stopping the hand that roamed his chest lightly, but not reciprocating in any way.

"Been a long time~" She sang, uncaring of the flame-woman who was leaving scorches a few feet around her body from the angry, jealous fire.

"Yet you still try for sex." He deadpanned, lightly stepping around her and moving for the half-ring of seats at the other end of the stadium.

"He used to be so receptive..." Aphrodite complained to Sol as both women joined his peculiar group, heading towards the council area. They were...not followed but joined by various, outrageous and human-looking Deities who had recently arrived themselves. Among them, a single body broke through, running for Kratos with a single-minded fervor until-

"Grandpa!" The woman exclaimed, leaping on Kratos and hugging herself tightly to his back. He stumbled the slightest bit but smiled a tiny, fond smile.

"Good to see you again, Hel." He said, wrapping an arm around the shorter deities shoulders, pulling her into a half hug as he continued the treck.

"Oh, so she gets a hug…" Sol grumbled, arms crossed and pouting.

"Family comes first with him." Aphrodite drawled. "Especially in the bedroom...ehehehe…~" The Love Goddess trailed off, eyes somewhere else as she drooled the smallest bit.

"Pervert." Sol scoffed, thankful her magmatic skin hid the blush that would no doubt color her. In a short minute or two, most of which was filled with the happy ranting of Hel about the dead...particularly, 'Monty.' A man who had somehow gone to her and, from the sounds of things, she was really enjoying the company of, the group had finally reached the council area, sitting in a conglomerate that swiftly grew as deities with alliances or just seeking protection formed around Kratos, his reputation being enough defense in case something were to happen.

And for a few hours, they sat like that, chatting and reaffirming alliances.

Then, with a gong, the meeting began.


	7. The meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kratos handles shit in his usual way, because he Really doesn't like incompetence. Or idiots. Especially incompetent idiots.

With a gong, the meeting began...

..and swiftly descended into absolute Chaos.

Kratos didn't know why he was surprised. It happened every time.

"-Children everywhere-"

"-He murdered my progeny-"

"-Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow-"

"-How was I supposed to know there was a demigod in the town-"

"-In my defense...I was minding my own business-"

"-I wonder if there are new mortal treats out in town-"

So on and so forth it went for nigh on twenty minutes, many deities standing and yelling at each other, but none Actually growing up and moving down to the sand below, where the 'speaker' for whatever issue usually went to present their case. 

That was, of course, what happened right up until a large, feminine figure stood from the top row, and began to move down towards the center, all eyes locking on to her, the shouting matches dying, but none moving to sit. She finally reached the lowest area and turned to face the thousands of assorted deities, face shrouded, bar her violet eyes.

"The court-" A ball of glowing light, who was sat near the bottom rows, spoke, "Recognizes The Morrigan, mistress of fate. Speak." It intoned dully, fluttering a bit with each word.

"Thank you." She all-but-purred, softly bowing to the assembled group. The polite facade fooled nobody. "Brothers, sisters, friends, enemies, and eldritch horrors from beyond the veil time and space." She began, steadily pacing in front of the stands. "We have called each other on this day, for a universe-altering event never before seen." She spoke, "Even my eyes cannot see where the threads of fate shall take us...all of us." And that statement held more power than a supernova. For if she could see nobodies fate, that meant even her realm-the realm of fate the future and time itself-were so horribly twisted by this sudden influx of godlings, that even the universe they had all helped make was invisible to them.

"-Impossible-"

"-It can't be-"

"-No way-

"-Is that true?!"

Came the many calls from the assortments, any deities of time or fate somberly agreeing with The Morrigan on the lack of vision. "This must be remedied," she shouted over the clamor, pacing a little faster, hands articulating what little her words could not. "I for one say we purge all realms of these...these...abominations!" A moment of almost offended silence. "No offense to any abominations in the room. You know what I meant." she corrected, and the offending air vanished to the winds.

"I disagree!" came a voice from right beside Kratos. It was Aphrodite. "These are our children!" She exclaimed with horror, standing and marching down to the center. "They may be born only from our magic, or only from our blood, but they are still ours!" she cried, standing next to The Morrigan and facing the audience with a pleading expression. Blatant manipulation, maybe. But she felt it a worthy cause.

"The court-" Came the ever-so-slightly annoyed ball, "Recognizes Aphrodite, Goddes of love."

"Thank you." She murmured, slightly embarrassed, but completely unrepentant.

"A foolish notion." Snarled The Morrigan. "These things are not our children. They are, at best, someone's science experiment, and at worst, one of us is trying to replace the others with a new, more malleable version." She huffed, her cynical logic reaching a few-members-beyond a handful of the audience.

"Or maybe they're our us-Damned Children!" Aphrodite all but roared, glaring at her fellow Goddess. "Maybe your right, maybe one of us is trying to tell the others something, but if they really wanted that, they wouldn't have made clones, they'd have called-" She froze midsentence, but she may as well have finished it. Every eye, magical or otherwise, flicked to Kratos for but a moment, some lingering, others fleeing instantly. Aphrodite cleared her throat and straightened up, calm again. "I stand to make a vote." She called to the assembled groups.

"As do I." The Morrigan growled.

"I put to vote the children be spared." Aphrodite challenged.

"I put to vote the abominations die!" The Morrigan rose.

Silence echoed, but before anyone could vote, two glowing, humanoid figures stood, marching down towards the center in tandem.

"The court-" said the ever-faithful ball, "Recognizes the remnant twins."

"Thank you, dear friend." Came the darker figure, head twitching unnaturally for a moment when it spoke.

"My fellow gods," drawled the yellow figure, "This need not be put to vote. The majority of these children already rest in our realm. If we simply gather them up and cast those who remain to it then-"

Death

Pure. Unadulterated. Even the underworld deities shivered and moved away from the angry, physically steaming form of Kratos. He stood and marched towards the sands, every step leaving melted bootprints in the millennia-old material, causing everyone to shift away, some even scrambling out of their seats to avoid his wrath.

"I'm sorry if I offended." The Creation twin murmured, eyeless face tracking the pale God. "We are both rather new here, who might you be?" he asked, stepping the slightest bit closer to his twin, who had down the same.

"T-The court-" The ball had hidden behind the pale-faced, stiff Jackal-human-hybrid sat next to it, "Rec-Recognizes Kratos, G-God of...uh…" A sudden, thoughtful silence cut a swath through the court.

What Was Kratos the god of, anymore?

"Equalization." Came the livid, barely-restrained voice of the Olympic butcher.

"Equalization!"

"Well, Kratos." The creation brother began, 'watching' as the two Goddess between them and this Pale creature fled to the sidelines to avoid him. The Morrigan, fearfully. Aphrodite…well she looked two seconds away from divulging herself of clothes and chucking herself at the walking Godkiller. "Have you issue with-GACK?!" The yellow being tried, right before an armored hand snatched closed around its neck, not really stopping it from talking, but certainly surprising it.

"You Dare-GUHH!" The darker twin exclaimed, moments before a boot dug itself into his sternum and slammed him to the no-longer-soft sands.

"Arrogant, insolent, FOOLS!" Kratos roared. "Not only did you have the gall, the audacity, to abandon your realm over a select group of mortals who had been tricked and lied to, but you also dared claim to judge them should your precious 'relics' be united, and if you find them, as a species, unsatisfactory, then you would ANNIHILATE THEM TO THE LAST!" He roared, sand physically being blasted away around them from the force of his anger. Not aura, just his anger.

"Those mortals-"

"Were as tricked as you were!" Kratos thundered, the skies above crackling with lightning, rain beginning to fall as Kratos's bucketload of different god-claims began to react to his righteous anger. "And you killed them all! Your brother had to replant the species! And for what?! A group tricked because you made a woman who defied you as immortal as a mortal can be! What did you think would happen, that she would just sit on her ass and cry?! Of Course, she's going to use the powers you handed her on a silver platter to stand against you!" Both brothers paused to ponder that.

"I suppose…"

"That was a mistake."

"Oh no. That was your first mistake. Your second was daring to consider using your former realm as a trash-dump for the rest of the pantheons, just to get in good with us!" There was a pause.

"Former?"

"Yes. Former. I Claim the Realm's of Remnant as my own, for it's Gods have left it open!" He called to the audience.

No one disputed the new claim.

"You can't just-" Kratos didn't even look down, simply plunged his foot into the destructive brother's chest, and the creature screamed in agony as it cracked, split, and finally detonated.

"Brother!" The yellow one screamed. He made no sound when Kratos squeezed, and he too detonated, the skies clearing in seconds from the twin blasts.

For ten minutes, nobody moved. By claiming their realm as his own, Kratos technically had the right to do what he did, in their eyes. The reason they all stood still, was because Kratos...had sprouted horns. A pair of antlers jabbed upwards from his temples, and two curled horns poked from the sides of his head, swirling into fine tips. Reaching up, Kratos gently pushed against the two sets, and they sunk into his skull, vanishing from sight.

"I lay my vote with Aphrodite." He suddenly called, moving back towards his seat.

"I lay my vote with Aphrodite!" The Morrigan squeaked, violet eyes wide with fear and panic.

Nobody blamed her...or voted for her original cause.

Soon afterward, the meeting was adjourned with another gong, and many left. A few, however, stayed. All of them stood and walked to Kratos with varying levels of hesitance. "Speak." He told the crowd, calmer now, but still short-tempered.

Two more vanished after that single word, spooked or unwilling to risk his anger.

"Kratos…" Came the voice of Sol from behind him. He turned to face her and was met with a faceful of magma-like skin. "Take me with you! It's so boring on that chariot with no more wolves to chase us!" she whined, chin resting on his bald head as she hugged him desperately.

"Have you mastered a human disguise?"

"W-Well, no-"

"Then no."

"Aww."

"Next."

"Kratos…" came a withered, raspy voice. Turning to his right, Kratos eyed the blue dressed, sword-bearing God. "Use it well." And then he was gone.

Kratos didn't know what the hell THAT meant, but Gods made little sense most of the time.

"Sir…" He turned left, gazing at the small, gold-and-green serpent. "Please, treat my youngling well." It pleaded. He nodded in acquiescence, and the little creature sighed in relief, vanishing with a pop.

"Equalizer." Kratos sighed and turned to face the tall, staff-carrying, bird-like God before him.

This was so very annoying.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

This was so very bad.

First, Kratos had left two days ago with a warning about a possible Deity War, then there was a record-high earthquake in the Grimmlands and mistral, making both continents a few miles shorter in a select few areas, and NOW he was tending to a bloody, whimpering Leo, who was laid across his desk.

"What happened?!" Ozpin demanded, having already sent Glynda the emergency buzz, trying to do something, anything, to staunch the bleeding of his fellow headmaster, and friend.

"Salem...new...pets…" The man grit out. "She...tried...to make...me turn. But I...wasn't scared...of her." He panted from the exertion of talking, tail twitching, but inhaled deeply and continued. "I'm...sorry. They know about...him…" The Faunus got out, chest heaving, blood splurting without remorse.

"Hang on Leo!" Ozpin exclaimed desperately. But it was for naught.

The tail stopped swaying.

The chest stilled.

His eyes faded to a simpler, glazed appearance.

And Leone Lionheart...was no more.

The sheer agony in Ozpins following scream could be heard all across the grounds.


	8. A Mistake undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kratos is mature enough to know when he's screwed the pooch and fess up

Kratos...wasn't sure what the hell he was doing.

In absorbing the Remnant duo, he had also absorbed their memories. And he saw the sudden injustice there.

He...regretted killing them. Well, one of them. The other he couldn't care less about. But one of the brothers, the Dark brother, he felt remorse for.

The poor deity had been tricked and beaten down over, and over, and over. And the poor bastard didn't even know it. So Kratos made a decision.

"Wha-WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Ah, so that's where Bellona had gotten off to.

Fwarooooommmm…

The almost humanoid ball of pure darkness thrummed in front of Kratos.

"What're you doing?!" The younger warrior screeched, horrified and...outraged? Peculiar.

"I made a mistake, so I'm rectifying that mistake." He explained. Bellona opened her mouth, probably to question what that meant.

And then it happened.

The ballish shape exploded outwards, forming a set of goat-like horns, and a gangly humanoid body. For a moment it sat there, hovering...before collapsing onto its face, still.

"Is...Is he dead?" 'He' shot up with a warbled gasp.

"I...I'm alive? I'm alive!"

"Yes...you are." Kratos drawled. The blackened beings head snapped up, and he scrambled back with a hiss.

"You...you absorbed me!"

"I did."

"Then...then let me go?"

"Yes."

"But...why?"

"Because you were treated unjustly. Both by your brother and myself. For my part in your mistreatment, I sincerely apologize." Kratos murmured, amber eyes lowered. Both Deities watching him were floored by the submissive gesture.

"I…" The sole Remnant brother murmured, shifting in his spot on the floor. "I suppose it's forgivable since you did bring up some rather obvious points I allowed myself to miss."

"Frankly," Kratos huffed, expression back to normal, arms crossed over his chest, "I'm surprised you didn't try to kill him yourself when he revived Ozma. "

Silence.

"He WHAT?!"

"After you destroyed humanity in your anger, your brother replanted Ozma among them so as to bring Salem to heel. He made the man functionally immortal by making his soul reincarnate through bodies one after the other until Salem lay defeated and the four Relics were brought together."

"I...I don't believe this!"

"And he let his silver eyes formulate into humans so as to cull your creations, now known as Grimm, from wreaking Havoc in your loss of controlling them."

"Didn't work, did it?"

"Not really." Bellona scoffed.

"HAH! Knew it. Still, wow, dickhead." The dark being laughed, humor fading after a moment.

"The story was explained somewhat poorly to me, but I saw your memories when I...Equalized you. He was completely willing to break the balance he claimed to defend in reviving Ozma and immortalizing Salem. In reality, he feared you. He felt the power that having worshipers gave him, and you had him on the back foot in your eternal duel before the peace." Kratos explained.

"You don't mean…"

"The only reason he TRULY stepped in is because if one mortal began worshipping you, then who's to say how many would flock to your banner for wishes he couldn't or wouldn't grant...he twisted the reality so as to vilify Salem in your eyes, making you believe his lie with hardly a thought."

"That bastard…"

"Again, I apologize. And...I have a proposition. Remnant is, by right, my realm. But seeing as you were temporarily a part of me…"

"You mean-?"

"I think it's best if you wait a while before returning. But your home will welcome you when you return." Kratos...had a faint smile. It was a small thing, and it wasn't the most beautiful grin. But damn did it carry weight.

"I…" The black creature actually sounded a bit choked up. He stood up, slowly, and stepped forward, one hand hesitantly drifting forward to clasp Kratos' shoulder. "I'd be honored to come home soon, New Brother."

"Good." Kratos grunted, slapping his new technical-sibling on the arm.

"Well…" Bellona cut in, deadpan. "I have no idea what just happened."

"Don't worry about it." Kratos drawled, giving his counterpart another pat on the shoulder before stepping back.

"You're right. I should wait a while before I return. I think I shall explore some of the other realms. Its…" He hummed, rubbing at his neck, "Weird, to be free of my brother's strict code. I'm...free. Heh, and only now do I see that it is indeed freedom." he murmured.

With a wave, the reborn god vanished in a wisp of black light, swirling away off to parts unknown.

"...How long have you been able to Revive Gods?"

"Since about ten minutes ago."


	9. A Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellona muses on her first memory of Kratos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Third hint is layed out ;)

Bellona knew she was an outlier amongst her godly kin. Nobody could understand why.

Why, Bellona, do you not hate Kratos for what you saw him do?

Why, Bellona, have you let your realm distance itself from war?

Why, Bellona, would you follow so blindly that God whom all others feared?

And she, too, occasionally wondered why. Why did she seek out the oldest, most ruthless of immortals and so long to stand beside him, to learn from him, to achieve his almost legendary respect and guidance?

Or...she used to wonder.

Then, it happened. The incredibly expansive Hindu pantheon, backed by a small sect of Chinese, Celtic, and Slavic deities, declared war against the Egyptian, Roman, and Japanese pantheons.

It would later be called the Hindu-Egypt war for both brevity, and the two main 'players' who had battled in it. The war raged for a century and a half, with thousands of demigods birthed and slain. Mortals and their armies fell by the trillions in a meat-grinder for their worshiped gods and goddesses.

Bellona had only been a minor combat goddess before the conflict. Of smaller scuffles, political battles, and occasionally a family feud or two. Then, her realm went to war, and she fought. It was upon the godly battlefields that she found her purpose. Her realm lost its war god, Mars, in the first three years of the war.

So she stepped up, adopting his brash personality and what little remained of his power after the Hindu had destroyed him down to what parts of his essence held his personality.

She still shuddered when she thought of it. The cold, and the deadness of the energy drifting around his gravesite, what used to be him was gone, only the power of War was left, too volatile for the Hindu to absorb themselves, the enlightenment-obsessed fools.

So Bellona absorbed it with a heavy heart and became Rome's new Goddess of war. For the next one hundred and forty-seven years, she fought. She won many battles and lost many more. She scraped with death, forced it upon millions by her own blade. She guided the forces of the Ey-Ro-Ja alliance in a constant struggle of gain and loss, push and pull, a war over territory, worshipers, and much much more.

And then it happened. In the last two hours of the One hundred and forty-ninth year, the main army of the Hindu attackers was quite suddenly was in sight. Bellona marched her forces against the advancing billions, already knowing they were outnumbered and outgunned with a grim desire to fight until she could no longer breathe.

Her victory would be stalling the enemy and saving as many innocents as possible from whatever tyranny the aggressors of this War in the Heavens had planned.

And then, quite suddenly, there was a beam of flowing light, and with it came the thrumming, soul-numbing thrum of space and time being dragged open and slammed shut in quick succession heralded him.

In a heartbeat, he arrived, and in a heartbeat, fear pulsed through her ranks, through the enemy, and through the Gods and Goddesses on both sides. And Bellona did not understand.

Why did one man hold such terror?

But then, how could she possibly understand? She was but a three millennia-old immortal.

She knew not the Butcher of Olympus or why he held that title.

She knew not the destruction of the Norse realms.

She had no idea there used to be a deity who held the power to destroy even immortals at their very soul, obsessed with ending all creation, that had been torn to shreds.

She would know, however, something that very, very few did. For she would witness it.

She would witness the Slaughter of the Thousand Gods.

In a matter of moments, her allies called a full retreat, and their armies listened. Bellona, however, was transfixed. The Hindu were terrified, even from this distance it was obvious. But even still they continued their march, even if their mortal armies stopped following almost a kilometer from the Pale white man.

There they stood, almost exactly a thousand of the assorted enemy deities, stood-in fear-against one man. She heard their words.

"Y-You, Kratos, we order you to stand as-aside and let us-"

"You started this war?" Came a voice like a whetstone against a chipped, blood-rusted blade. Satisfying and gruff and intimidating.

A smaller, horned deity wearing a flowing, Chinese robe stepped forward, hand worriedly resting on his blade. "We-we are using our holy right as the-the all-alliance of-"

"Did. You. Start. It?" The snow-white being cut in, his voice a growl that reminded her of a volcano ready to burst.

A more confident looking woman-whom Bellona knew to be a shapeshifter-stepped forward. "Yes, ve di-"

An ax buried itself in the woman's skull, and the god next to her swiftly had his head ripped clean off by an ivory hand.

The fight went much the same for almost two hours, the assorted thousand throwing everything in their arsenal at the unstoppable monster of a God. Reality was bent, the earth was rent, shadows and light blitzed the attacker in tandem.

He was barely slowed.

The fight was glorious and brutal and like a living piece of art. And then, upon the last foe-an Elephantine God with panic and confusion and howwhatthefuckthisdoesn'tmakesense plastered into his eyes-was felled.

But it was the way that he, the God, this Kratos, killed him that caught her attention more than anything. His Axe was stuck deeply, too deeply, into the body of a giant, stone Goddess. So when the Elephant-like God roared and charged him, the pale god brought forth his left arm.

And a shield sprang forth.

It snapped closed around the chargers trunk, severing the appendage, and when Kratos swung the bronze disk around, it cannoned into the larger immortals skull, sending his neck snapping about the wrong way, and ending the war.

Two hours.

Two hours, Bellona would realize a few days later. He slew two thousand gods in two hours.

Like it was hardly a workout.

It took Bellona a few days to realize because she was...very distracted by what the man had done at the very end of the fight.

In public, her mother would swear up and down that she, being a consort of Mars, was proud to have a daughter of the war deity. But in private, she told her daughter the truth.

Her father was a much different man in looks and mind, but it was true he was a war god.

The main thing mother remembered was a single object he carried, and…

Well...Greece was the parent of Rome in more ways than one.


	10. The plot Thickens. And so do Jaune's arms...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things grow wilder as Remnant struggles to adapt to the God-Children running amock on its surface

Professor Kratos was unstoppable. Jaune should know, he was currently engaged in a one-on-one with the man.

He'd say huntsman but the pale teacher gave off a different, weirdly older vibe.

Speaking of vibes, the vibration from Fist meeting Shield shook Jaune's entire body as he slid back a few feet, but stayed upright. A glorious improvement from being knocked flat, in his humble opinion. "Stay focused, Arc."

"Yes, sir." Jaune lowered his stance, and shield, old-yet-sharp blade coming up to rest near the top of his only defense from those deceptive, pale hands.

"One." The professor blurred forward, his hand racing in from the right. Jaune slid low, tilting his shield to send the fist skidding upwards, and jabbed his blade forward, mentally cursing when the professor's free hand batted the blade aside.

"Two." Jaune darted backward, narrowly avoiding the elbow that cannoned past-mere inches from his face.

"Three." Jaune jumped left, barely managing to dodge the veritable plow that is the Prof's shoulder, spinning on a heel and swinging his blade in.

He flinched when the Professor's axe appeared in his hand and caught Crocea on its haft, twitching upwards and nearly disarming Jaune.

Nearly.

The blonde teen managed to batter the axe down with his shield, freeing his sword at the same time a foot cannoned into his stomach.

Spine met unforgivingly packed earth and the later punished the former for crashing into it again.

"Impressive. If my reflexes were on the level of someone your age, the fight would have been yours."

"If," Jaune groaned, pushing himself up, "They fought as close-range as you, or had slower weapon-draw skills." He gracefully accepted the older fighters arm, barely keeping steady as he was dragged upwards.

"Acknowledging that learning only to counter me doesn't cover everything is a good step." The older man said, cracking his neck and taking a step back. "Again."

Jaune obliged.

"One." Backstep dodge, swipe for the face.

"Two." Duck kick, bash ankle.

"Three." Jump that sweep, ohshitbraceforimpact!

BKRANG

Jaune rolled twice before coming to a halt. "Has anyone broken four?" He asked, dragging himself up and shaking off the ringing in his ears.

"Nobody as young as you." Kratos admitted. Jaune snorted.

"You should have these sessions with Phyrra. She might break that record." He slid into his fighting stance, tilting Crocea so the moon's glint wasn't in his eyes.

"She doesn't need it. You, however-"

"Need it more than anyone, I know. That's why you offered, right?"

A pause.

"Yes…" Well, THAT wasn't suspicious…

"Again." Jaune would wake up sore, but smiling.

Until he realized he had to do laps, then he was right back to just Sore.

-With Kratos, two days later-

"Alright." Kratos rumbled, stood before a semi-circle of his students. "Winchester, Rose. Forward." The team leaders meandered towards him with naught but a confused glance at each other. "Take a mat, prepare to fight."

"Yes, professor!" They exclaimed, shaking off their confusion and heading to a mat in the corner.

"Thrush, Belladonna." The two nodded, and found themselves a sparring mat.

"Xiao-Long, Valkyrie."

"Ren, Schnee." On and on the list went, until everyone had a mat and a partner. "Can anybody guess what today's exercise is?"

Silence, until a tentative hand, rose. "To spar?" The room chuckled at that.

"Yes, Rose, we are sparring. Does anybody know why you received the partner you did?" When no answer came for almost a minute, amber eyes snapped left. "Xiao-Long!"

The student jumped. "Sonuva-Yes, sir?"

"What would you do if someone tried to mug you." The blonde teen blinked.

"Deck them in the face."

"If they had a longer range than you?"

"Close the distance, then deck them." A few chuckles rose again.

"What if they were stronger than you?" A ponderous silence.

"Well, I would try to figure out their style and-"

"I don't mean a better fighter. I mean stronger." Silence permeated.

"I...I would try to-"

"Faster, as well?"

"Sir, am I fighting a human or am I fighting you?" She snarked, drawing various cackles and snorts. Kratos felt his own lip twitch a tad at the irony in that sentence.

"Answer, Xiao-Long."

"Well...I would adapt, I suppose." she finally answered, vague yet exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Perfectly said, Xiao-Long. Adaptation is today's lesson. Winchester, Rose!" The duo stiffened. "I paired you because Winchester is slow, and needs to learn how to adapt the weight of his weapon against a quick opponent. Rose, You rely on finesse, range, and speed to carry you and your weapon using sheer momentum as a power source. Against a foe who can withstand your momentum and land heavy hits, you need training.

"Schnee! You are predictable. The style you've had jammed into your skull is all you use beyond the occasional clever use of your semblance, so I've pitted you with someone whose style shifts every second. Ren!" Something in those eyes, so familiarly Pink, gave him a moment's pause. "Your stamina needs improvement, a foe who keeps you on your toes consistently will do you wonders."

On and on he went, Blake needed to learn what it was like to be the slower fighter, thrush the heavy hitter.

Yang and Nora needed to realize they weren't always the strongest.

"Begin!" The room was filled with shouts, gunfire, and clashes of steel as the students got to work, all under the watchful eyes of the pale God.

"You know," Bellona drawled from the stands next to him, "One of these days we're gonna have to spar for them."

"So you can show off?" He guessed, accurately if her blush was anything to go by.

"A-And so they can learn!"

"Learn what? How to watch blurs." He glanced at the pouting goddess. "If you want to spar, sa-"

"YES!" A few students glanced up at her loud exclamation.

And received free hits from their partners. Good.

"I'll have to ask you to keep that off of Beacon property." Kratos sighed, tactfully ignoring the way Bellona jumped, cursing in Latin.

"Headmaster."

"Professor."

A few moments of silence.

"I am...sorry, for the loss of your friend."

"It's...something I'm used to. I just...wasn't expecting it so soon."

"I understand." And he did, Gods, how he did. "I presume you've news?" He asked, dragging the subject back into more non-depressing territory.

"Indeed. An incident was reported in Vale."

"Incident?"

"A boy described as 'living water' was seen fighting a woman with wings. Both were throwing lightning at each other, no dust visible, and bullets bounced off of them. They tore an abandoned warehouse to shreds and destroyed three blocks around it when they both released waves of, quote, 'bubbling red hate-beams' from their eyes at each other. When the beams met, Vale gained an extra two-hundred-foot extension for its docks."

"And that means?" Bellona asked bluntly.

"Well, it means magic has returned much stronger than it was, or I've discovered the reason for your secretive god council." The wizard drawled, sipping his mug of mystery-liquid. Kratos was mildly impressed he had drawn that conclusion so quickly, since the students weren't buzzing about the 'incident'.

"Am I allowed to know what, precisely, has decided to invade my home?" Kratos thought for a moment, thankful that Bellona was deferring to him instead of Stabbing Ozpin to shut him up.

"Demi-Gods." He finally answered.

"Oh joy."

"Indeed. There are many in Remnant. For some reason, they have decided to make a home here. I fear the reason may yet make itself known as less-than poor luck.

"Right. Well, If you don't mind me, I need to give James a call."

"Why?"

"You have your secret councils, I have mine." The man was gone before Bellona could open her mouth to snap about the disrespect.

"When today ends, we find those two. You will locate the winged woman-peacefully."

"Why do I get the angel-girl?"

"Because I have experience calming children who've transformed for the first time."

"...Wanna talk abou-"

"No."


	11. The chase begins, and a fate is learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or that chapter where Kratos is a clever motherfucker, despite being his usual sledgehammer self.

Hope, to Bellona, was not a cruel mistress. Was not fake.

It was a monster.

More so than even she was. Hope snuck into your very soul, waited for just the right moment, and then ripped itself out with a smile. Taking whatever soul it had wiggled into with it.

And she hated that people could never let it go.

Even as the airship rumbled around her on their flight to Vale, did that age-old-monster creep it's way into the Roman woman. She idly wondered if Kratos was feeling something similar. The ship landed, and thoughts of Hope philosophy drifted from her mind as Kratos cannoned out into the city, leaping for the roofs and bounding across them with the same ease of…well, everything he did.

"Damnit, old man!" Bellona shouted, launching from the shaking airship and trying to keep up. "What's the hurry?! We have to search the whole city, right?! Let's start slow at least!" she called out to him, almost a building behind at all times.

He ignored her.

"Kratos, I'm serious! We shouldn't-" Her pale mentor lept close to a lightning rod, and the metal pole ignited, sparking and melting at the point where Kratos almost touched it. Now that Bellona watched, every step of the Equalizer Gods' leather boots left steaming, scorched footprints. He lept through a cloud of vapor, which instantly vanished, hissing into non-existence. "KRATOS! Your Aura is leaking out, you need to-"

Panic.

It was only the fact that Bellona was actively paying attention to the sheer waves of energy that Kratos was kicking off, did she notice the sudden spike of Dietetic energy to the east. 'But why did…' Bellona stiffened, surprise flooding her. 'Clever old bastard.' She chuckled aloud. "Right. I'm on it." The Goddess of the duo landed with a sharp crack and darted towards the inland wall, smiling faintly. "A Godly presence kicking off unbearably high energy while moving like a bullet, of Course someone who could feel that would panic." She smiled. "Baiting an enemy from hiding by scaring them through a show of force. How very Spartan."

She cackled at her joke right up until a feathered form shot from a conjoined billboard, flying south-and away from Kratos-at all speed.

She pivoted and darted after the distinctly feminine flyer, adrenaline flooding her veins. Bellona was never a hunter, but she adored running with eagles, so this would be no sweat…

Hopefully.

-Vacuoan Coffee warehouse, Vale-

Prison escapes were simple. Roman had been doing them since he was fifteen. Escaping cops had become simple when he was much younger.

Feh, Simple.

Nothing was simple anymore. Not since that witch, since the pale bastard, and especially not since this damnable-

'Hey now~' Purred a smooth voice, curled at the edges in amusement and written full of mischief. 'That's not too kind now, ya hear?' Yes, Roman DID hear.

He wished he couldn't hear, at this point. The hat atop his ginger locks shook in time with its attached voice's cackling.

'Now now, is that any way to treat me, after everything I've done?' It asked, coyly amused.

"The only thing you've 'done' is annoy me and make idiotic comments about how interesting a party I've found myself, quote, 'Attending without a ticket.'" He drawled, mocking the stupid purple object's weird accent.

It laughed, loudly.

'That's why I like you, Ro-man.' It snarked, wiggling in-what he hoped was-the equivalent of readjusting a jacket. 'I'm glad I made the right choice.'

"You made the right choice? Cinder dumped you on me, literally, when I lost my normal hat and bitched about it because she was the cause. Stupid cursed hats, stupid 'higher power' getting rid of it by dumping it on a minion. Stupid minion dumping it on me." He grumbled, reaching up to deftly brush some falling dust off the brim of the hat, despite his whining about it, you know, existing.

And now it was laughing at him again. Quieter, thankfully.

'Oh, Ro-man.' It sighed with mocking(?) wistfulness. 'How little you know.' Curiosity burned through him, but spite and pride refused to let him ask a fucking hat for answers.

It chuckled again.

'Don't you worry now, Ro-man. We'll be meetin' real soon, and then I'll show you what a real party looks like…' It chuckled again, and that mischief had transcribed itself into a dark, foreboding promise.

"What, exactly, do you get out of sitting atop my Fine head, anyway?" He grumbled, tempted to stab himself over cracking that fast and asking something.

'Well one, I get to play around in a new little spot. Two, I get to finally get a drink of something that isn't a knock-off of Actual Remnite booze. And thirdly...ehehe...I get to, hopefully, show an old friend of mine the path to the Final Party.' It drawled, devolving into mildly insane cackles, falling silent afterward.

Roman was very uncomfortable.

Mostly at what he was currently tasked with. Stupid hat, threatening to do it by itself using him. He sighed and turned to look at the White Fang member who was laid before him, missing half his chest, but still breathing. Amazingly.

'Go on then…' The voice encouraged, and Roman saw more than felt himself reach out, holding his hand above the hapless Faunus grunt. For a moment, nothing. Then, almost like it had always been there, the grunt was falling into a pit of roughly squarish shape, and a coffin wrapped around him-from nothing-on the way down. The ground filed itself back in, and suddenly…

Green.

A ball of pure, shifting green drifted from the ground, and floated upwards, making contact with his outstretched fingers and-

He remembers being born in Menagerie.

He remembers scraping a knee and having his aura unlocked by a passing huntswoman at twelve.

He remembers making love to his wife for the first time. For the last time, too.

Remembers his son's first day outside the hospital

He remembers the explosion.

He remembers snuggling with his husband of three years and his son of fifteen.

He remembers fighting for his life as two gods-a fucking kid no younger than Harlequinn and a winged woman-duel above, trying to not be crushed under anything they throw or send collapsing by accident.

He recalls the exact second part of the Winged Woman's energy beam was reflected off of the boy's and clutches his chest as he feels the pain explode there, melting his aura, liquifying his skin, and turning his organs to steaming, bubbling messes.

He knows his last thought is of how he wished to kiss Perry one last time.

He snaps back to being Roman, and stumbles back, tears running searingly cold tracks down his cheeks.

'A good man.' The voice murmured, solemn for the first time since he put the hat on. 'He will be received well, I think.' The green orb shoots upwards and vanishes into the gem that forms the brooch of his new hat. 

Roman knows now, what The Party is.

"Could you…" He feels like an idiot before he can ask, and cuts himself off.

'I know.' The voice says, comforting but back to its upbeat self. 'I slipped him right on in next to Harley.' And Roman sighs in relief, comforted that even if he left a husband behind, Ven will be with his wife, on the other side. 'Now get up, Ro-man, those two fools cut one hell of a swath through the city.' Which meant more to guide.

Roman thought that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this.

'Oh! An' bring along that friend a' yours, N-Whatsit. She seems like quite the part animal~!'

And just like that, he regretted not saying 'no,' and getting torched by Cinder.

Would've saved him the trouble.


	12. Of fear and freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kratos sparks a chain of events he could not hope to have predicted

Vien had woken up to a quiet barracks. The barracks were never quiet. Well, not until he stepped from his room and snapped at the men and women under his command about 'being children too damn early for children to be awake.'

Hint one.

They were all silent as the grave when he had stepped out-for once-at a respectable time in the morning. They were waiting for him, all in gear and armed, looking shaken.

Hint two.

When he had led them-rank and file for the first time in nigh two years-to the facilities Board Room, he was expecting a false alarm. Or a particularly loud bang in the night. There were only two of the normal eight scientists waiting for him, both looking grim.

Hint three.

He was updated quickly and was ordered, for the first time in the Vale Branch 5's history, to full lockdown. 

So he did, sending his guards all-but-sprinting for the many positions they were meant to take, and had hunkered down in the Main Control Hub, listening to the constant stream of updates and check-ins, with the majority of his camera feeds locked onto one, single room in the facility, the rest of which either showed helmet-cams of his troops, or integral points in the facility itself.

He was quietly curious as to why the Lounge/break room had a camera dedicated to it while the facility was in lockdown.

Hints four-through-twenty nine.

He had acquired hint thirty and accepted that, yes, today was going to be a terrible day, when seven-fucking seven-extra scientists had shown up to hole themselves in the ante-chamber to the room leading to their most recent acquisition, all of which were from the Vale Branch 12.

The branch dedicated to the Weirdest Shit their organization handled.

It was quiet, now. That...thing that'd torn a White Fang hideout in two by fighting some winged woman was captured, locked in the most airtight container they had-a roughly fifteen-by-six foot box that the higher-ups had sent them for...something, though he doubted this was what they had in mind-and was currently quiet, either knocked out inside or simply waiting.

It wasn't dead, since not ten minutes ago it had started thrashing and panicking with enough force to rock the massive, pure metal box that it was stuck inside.

The box had walls thicker then he was tall and was layered with weird indentations that made him tired when he got too close, so he had precisely zero doubts that the Thing was in a state of proper terror, if it was thrashing about with enough force to visibly move that box, and was screaming like hell itself had suddenly crashed down on it. Then, as suddenly as it had lost control, did it stop, the thrashing and screaming dropped to the occasional rattle and silence, before the box fell still.

He didn't want to know, but what the hell even caused tha-

Five alarms blared, the lights went red, and a distant boom shook the facility. The camera leading to the Main Entrance showed the doors imploding before a piece of rubble crashed into it with enough force to send the feed into the nonexistence of a black screen.

He tensed and heard more than felt himself ordering the nearest patrol to investigate yesterday.

"Sir! The main lobby is completely trashed! It looks like a hurricane went through here…" Came the voice of Indigo, one of the two who were patrolling the east entryway.

"Hold that thought," Came his partner, Sienna. "Footprints in the dust. One set, male." She said, and if the way her helmet camera shifted, and her eyes flickered about the trashed lobby, she was kneeling to get a better look. Why these damn helmet cams only showed the inside he didn't know. "Tall, and likely broad. No recognizable tread style. Shit, sir, I think its a Huntsman."

Well, that only complicated everything.

"They have no jurisdiction breaking in like that, where do the tracks lead?"

"West, sir. I'd say team four is about to run into them any time." Indigo said, violet eyes narrowing in concern, brow pinched.

"Then move, now." He ordered, eyes flicking to Team Four's cameras even as he keyed into their mic chatter, cutting off a debate of some subject or the other. "Be advised, hostile is headed your way, potential huntsman, prepare yourselves."

Surprisingly, the group only groaned, and all sets of eyes bar one turned to glare at the last soldier. "Oops?" Murmured Tiago.

Ah, he'd probably made an accurate prediction. Again. And it probably had something to do with their main issue. Again.

Honestly, that man should become an investor, lord knows he would slaughter the competition.

The squad quickly reformed their composure, and fell into position, shoulder to shoulder, one line crouched before the second, firearms directed to the end of the hall.

Thankfully, he had a camera that stared down their chosen chokepoint and would be able to watch the fight from just behind their firing lines. The soldiers shifted and whispered to each other when nearly a minuted had passed, and even he, almost a mile underground from their location, was feeling the tension.

He felt the tremor and heard the surprised cursing a whole second before the feed caught up, and showed the door at the end of the hall cannoning towards the troops. They threw themselves and each other out of the way as it skipped past, slamming into the far wall with enough force to stick.

"That door was made of titanium." Came the shocked, only slightly scared voice of a scientist that had slipped in somewhere between the alarms triggering and now.

One of the new ones, his face was unfamiliar.

The doorway beyond was pitch black, and he struggled to see what, exactly, was there. There was a moment of quiet before the soldiers collected themselves and somewhat returned to positions, aiming down the hall from wherever they had landed/scrambled to slip away from the sudden projectile.

Something fast, a blur of Gold, Silver, and Brown flew from the doorjamb, spinning through the air followed by a blue trail-dust of some kind?-straight towards the camera. Before the object planted itself with enough force to knock the camera loose and send it spinning down the hall, he saw the marines firing into the opened hall.

Something was there, and the bullets were reflecting off of it with sparks and the horrid echoes of crunching steel. No shimmer of Aura, no blur and sound of metal striking metal, the bullets simply...didn't work.

But then the camera was staring at a two-or-three foot stretch between itself and the wall, and he was clenching the arms of his chair hard enough to make it creak. "Report!" He demanded over the gunfire.

"No effect!" Came one of the female members, but he couldn't tell which since they were all shouting or hissing at the thing. "It's like we're hitting a-" Her eyes widened in shock, and the rest of her unit mirrored the action. Something whirled past Jandr's helm fast enough to be visible at the edges of the camera.

And then Jandr was flying, his vital signals spiking, plummeting, and evening out into unconsciousness as he hit the wall. Hard.

His fellows whipped around and yelped in surprise, splatterings of gunfire as they sprayed at whatever had slipped into their midst faster than a blink. He was forced, through every agonizing second, to listen to the squad scream, to see the terror in their eyes as they were knocked cold one after the next after the next.

It ended when only Alex, poor girl, remained, who was screaming in rage and panic, spraying what remained in her rifle at this Still Fucking Unknown who had ripped through a squad of fifteen soldiers faster then he could order anyone else to converge. Unfortunately, her gun did what all guns eventually do.

The weapon clicked its repeated beat. Empty.

Alex's eyes widened, and her dust-infused helmet dented in five grooves-Fingers?!-around her head, she thrashed and screamed as she was lifted up, absolute terror filling her large, brown eyes. The screen of the helm-cam cracked. There was a loud thump, and her eyes rolled back, her vitals falling dangerously before stabilizing.

She fell with a sickening crack as her helmet met concrete.

A few moments later, a leather boot landed in front of the camera that had been sheered from the roof at the 'fight's start and vanished a moment later. Silence ruled the control room for almost a minute before he snapped out of the second-hand fear.

"All units, all units!" He shouted into the facility speakers, "Hostile presence confirmed, switch to dust rounds and converge on sector C!" He ordered, stiff yet visibly shaken. "I want every monitor we can spare watching the hallways to that Thing that we snagged from the remains of that White Fang base." He demanded, and his voice brokered no arguments.

It was as everyone else scrambled to find weapons or do as he commanded that this mystery scientist spoke again. "How do you know that's what-"

"Thirty years." He interrupted. "Thirty years since so much as a curious reporter shows up to any of the Vale Branch doorsteps without warning, and now the day after we find that Thing do we suddenly get invaded?" He let the suitably cowed man do the math, returning to the many screens before him.

In the time it had taken him to snap at the Green employee, two more patrols had been wiped, including Indigo and Sienna. Every now and again they would catch a flicker of white at the edge of a camera, a flash of brown as another terrified soldier was layed out with a crack upside the head, but otherwise...well, he figured this must be what being under fire from a sniper was like.

Dust rounds, it seemed, also had no effect, if the explosions and echoes of wind he could hear-even from the control room-were anything to go off of. And then, a boon of something good in a day of bad.

"Sir! E-Effect confirmed! Electricity does slow him, I repeat, Electricity-" The man's vitals flatlined.

Either he was dead, or his chest-piece had been shattered.

Vien didn't know which was worse, seeing as he'd watch the outermost layer of those vests withstand a Goliath's tusk slamming into them from the side with minimal denting.

On and on it went, soldiers being downed like wine glasses at a Schnee gala. Now that Gord, poor bastard, had confirmed the effect of Lightning dust doing something instead of nothing, the Huntsman(was it even a huntsman? Was it even a person?) was moving fast enough that screams had become his only reports as squads were ambushed over and over and over.

At last, it stopped, and he again chanced a look at the many screens before him.

There was nobody.

Of the near five-hundred soldiers that manned this facility, all bar the ones holed up here with himself yet stood. Only one was dead-possibly-but the point stood. If this monster they faced did all this in barely two hours...how fast would it have been if he simply killed the guards?

Cameras started darkening, and the lights fell dim.

"Generators, now!" He shouted without pause, the shade sharpening his focus as it slowly sharpened his eyesight.

"On it!" Came the voice of his second-in-command, who was rushing somewhere off to his left.

Bless Faunus and their night vision.

It took a harrowing, near heart-stopping five minutes, but the backups came on, and light returned.

He wished it hadn't.

The cell they'd kept The Thing in was ripped cleanly open, seven feet of metallic alloy wrenched open without care.

The thing was gone, and there was a hole in the far wall. And the wall after that. And the wall after that.

Now that he listened he could hear the faint sounds of cracking plaster as the escapee and its helper tore their way free of the underground facility, amazingly not triggering any more alarms, as they missed every other Containment Block in the building.

"Call the council." He whispered. "There's a new threat to The Organization."

Well, so much for that twentieth anniversary the troops had been 'secretly' preparing for his promotion to Commander.


	13. A short, Quick breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot. Fucking. Damn. Volume 7 is...unexpectedly great, and greatly unexpected.

_Sometimes, it is the smallest things that cause the biggest differences. The tiniest spark can light the greatest fire. The most simple soul can incite the most drastic changes._

_A butterfly flaps its wings…_

_And half a world away, a tornado swirls to life…_

_A God takes a stand…_

_Among the infinite depths of space, reality blinks…_

_And something that should have forgotten, remembers…_

* * *

Kratos had a deep, bad feeling in his stomach.

Which, thinking about it, might be thanks to the violent red beams smashing _into_ his stomach hot and hard enough to sizzle the air around him. If he could feel it, it might even concern him mildly about singing his clothes.

The beams finally cut off, and the young, panting boy in front of him glared in disbelief at the lack of even a singed hair on Kratos' stomach.

"Are you finished?"

As it so turned out, he was _not_ finished.

* * *

Bellona hummed peacefully from her perch in a tree, stroking the wings of the relaxed, slightly bruised woman sprawled across her lap.

"And that's when I met Kratos, officially, anyway."

"Wow. He sounds remarkable."

"Sweetheart, that ain't the half of it. Now then, where was I? Ah, right, when he socked Jupiter in the nuts…"

* * *

If Kratos had a watch, he would be staring at it _really_ condescendingly right about now.

Kids these days, just because their eyes had star-shaped pupils, were more colorful than a Vacuoan hippie and shot lasers, they thought they had a right to waste time shooting their beams off endlessly when it _clearly wasn't working._

"GAAAHHH!" The younger god-born screamed his frustration, falling onto a knee, black-rooted, violet-tipped hair flopping dramatically against his soaked forehead, the rest of it trailing down his thin, loose, brown shirt, almost reaching his black shorts.

"Are you done, yet?"

The twitch in the boy's shoulder turned into a high-speed shiver, and the next set of eye-beams crashed into Kratos' nose.

* * *

"And it turns out they were _roommates._ "

"Oh my Gods they were _roommates._ "

"Right?! Anyways, _that's_ when Ra showed his feathery face, and holy hell if he wasn't pissed about the whole ordeal…"

* * *

Kratos, currently being shot in the forehead, sighed and wondered if Ozpin would give him a raise if he punted this brat into the atmosphere.

He somehow doubted it.

"AHHHH! WHY WON'T YOU DIE?!"

"If this is how you thank people who save you from underground facilities, then your first lesson will be in manners."

The next beam caught him squarely in the crotch.

* * *

"-and that's the story of Me."

"Wait, so, hold on, your _father-_ "

"Yup."

"B-But how?!"

"Mother was...forward."

" _He was unconscious!_ "

" _Very_ forward."

* * *

Kratos felt...on the whole neutral.

The students watching him drag a sweaty, out of breath, currently-shooting-the-back-of-his-skull with red eye-lasers probably disagreed, but he _really_ wasn't in the mood for opinions right now.

"Right, so, Kratos-Fraana, Fraana-Kratos. Say hi, you old geezer."

Kratos paused for all of a second to glance at the winged, _docile_ woman walking next to Bellona.

"Hi."

And then he was marching towards his office again, idly aware of team Rwby staring at him from their window as the boy being dragged by his ankle turned into a deer and tried to buck his way out of the paler God's grip.

It didn't work, but hey, the effort was what mattered.

Right up until a hoof smacked his knapsack, _then_ the only thing Kratos could focus on mattering was _not_ killing the freshly god-hooded teen as he thrashed him across the fighting ring.

He wasn't frustrated over Bellona getting the calm one, and he _wasn't_ frustrated that the boy had kicked the part of his bag where he kept Atreus' arrow.

_ **He wasn't.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know, but I wanted to finish up the 'retrieval' as it were, and update now that I've finished Volume 7.


End file.
